Nightmares and New Beginnings
by Sarra Ambrai
Summary: COMPLETE! Final two chapters just uploaded. Jubilee deals with her past and Logan helps her. W/J
1. Chapter 1

He had figured it out. Five years of keeping it a secret from him—from everyone—and Wolverine finally caught on to what everyone else missed. He'd been out barhopping the first week I was back from college and happened to wander by my room on the way to his own when he heard me cry out in my sleep. Thanks to this jackass frat boy who managed to fondle me just a little too much while I was drunk at a party, the old nightmares were particularly bad. Luckily, I had been sober enough to not use my powers on the asshole because I **would** have lost control. I **would** have killed him. Instead, I kneed him in the balls so hard he puked all over his jersey. I puked later that night too, but not from the alcohol and not from an injury.

My nightmares really do suck.

So there I was in the throes of yet another. I couldn't see anything. They had blindfolded me so there was only the darkness. I never knew what was going to happen to me until it happened. What had happened wasn't long, but it was straight-forward and to the point. Help the X-men escape the Hulkbuster base and earn some personal time with one of Bastions over-affectionate guards. Who apparently couldn't score on his own and had a thing for teenagers. My choice, my sacrifice. My shitty luck.

My nightlight had gone out. I was enveloped in darkness, and in my dream I was powerless so I couldn't summon my fireworks to rescue me from the darkness, from the dream.

Logan found me thrashing in the bed. I wasn't conscious, so I don't know what he saw, but I have pretty damned good idea. Lex told me it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened to me if you witnessed one of my nightmares. Logan's a smart guy and he's seen a lot of horrible shit in his day. He tried to wake me, but he couldn't. I couldn't see him; I couldn't see anything save the darkness. I couldn't hear his voice, only my screams. Once the cycle had ended, once the memories ran out, I woke up. And ran for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time before puking up dinner. Logan followed me in and pulled my hair back in an effort to help.

I blasted him into the wall.

"GAHHHH." I'd recognize his scream of pain anywhere.

"SHIT! Oh God, Wolvie, I'm so s-s-sorry!"

Thankfully, he didn't hit the wall behind my bath tub hard enough to break it, but his chest was smoldering from third-degree burns.

"God, Logan, I didn't know it was you—what were you doing in my room?! Oh, God, are you okay?!"

He looked awful; his skin was a blistering, oozing mess and he didn't seem conscious. He tried to say something, but all I could hear was a strained growl. I knelt over the tub, crying from the nightmare, from what I did to him, and tried to help him out, but physical strength was failing me. He curled up on his side in the fetal position, face contorted in pain. I knew he was starting to heal, I could see it—had seen him heal form worse. Feeling utterly helpless, I rubbed his back and waited, still sobbing.

It felt like forever, but in a few moments he was completely healed and crawling out of the tub of his own volition whereas I was so strung out I couldn't even manage to stand up.

"Hey, Jubilation, no, darlin' it's okay, shhh…"

"Wolvie, I'm sorry, so sorry…"

 "Ain't your fault, darlin'. Hang on a sec, and let me wash the blood off."

Utilizing my sink, he made quick work of the mess and, before I knew it, had me gathered up in his powerful, comforting arms and into his own room. He sat me on his bed and I must have managed to look questioning because I was crying too hard to talk and he offered up the explanation of "Your sheets are sweat-soaked, darlin'." Then he held me while I cried myself out, my face buried in his neck, his hands rubbing my back, all the while whispering "Shh, darlin', it's okay" like a mantra.

I finally stopped and Wolverine offered me another Kleenex which was quickly added to my impressive pile on his night stand. We sat like that for several moments more, with me clinging to him like a lifeline and him stroking my back.

"Wolvie, I need water." My voice was scratchy and utterly worn out.

"I gotta glass in my bathroom; I'll be right back."

Once he got me water, he knelt on the floor in front of me. I'll never forget the look on his face as long as I live. He looked tortured. His eyes were stormy yet full of concern and more. His face was white, from anger or grief, I couldn't tell. Probably both.

"Jubilation." It was a request to tell him everything. Or at least as much as I was willing. But I didn't have the strength for this particular conversation. Not tonight. My head felt like it was going to explode from pain without any help from super powers at all.

I shook my head at him. Which made it hurt even more.

"Wolvie, my head is killing me and I'm freakin' exhausted. I just wanna sleep."

He swallowed hard; I knew the questions going through his head were driving him close to berserk. "Please," I pleaded. "I promise I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He sighed heavily in defeat and nodded. "You can stay in here tonight…if you want."

"Thanks."

"Let me get you a clean shirt or somethin'. That one's sweaty and has some of my blood on it."

I would have nodded, but learned from experience. "K."

He grabbed a black tee-shirt from his drawer and handed it to me. After a moment of hesitation, he turned his back on me, allowing my privacy without making me move to the bathroom.

"Decent?"

"And covered up," I replied having already curled up on his bed.

"I'll be right back," he muttered and grabbed a pair of sweatpants before disappearing into his bathroom.

"Leave the light on?" I asked tentatively as he came out. He halted, surprised. That's right; the resident firecracker was now terrified of the dark.

"Sure," he said.

He made a move for the couch in his room and I stopped him again. Having been comforted by his arms wrapped around me, I selfishly wanted more. I desperately wanted that feeling of safety and security. Sure, I might be a rape victim and curling up with one of the most dangerous men on the planet isn't every girl's notion of an ideal sleeping arrangement, but I'm not every girl. And, Logan is Logan.

"Hold me?" I hated how weak I sounded, even if I usually don't mind letting my guard down around him. But dammit, it had been a long, hard night.

He didn't say anything; he simply slipped underneath the covers and gathered me to his chest. I buried my nose in his chest hair, inhaling deeply. Cigar smoke. Pine trees. A faint hint of motorcycle grease. The masculine scent underneath all that. He smelled as he always had and it lulled me to sleep.

I don't think he slept at all that night.


	2. Chapter 2

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself practically glued to Wolvie's side.

"Hey," he said gruffly, running his hand up and down my back in an all-purpose gesture of comfort. Again.

"Hey," I said, lifting my head up to look at him. He looked tired. And worried. I sat up in the bed, facing him with my legs crossed underneath me while he stayed lying down, either because he was tired despite his healing factor, or because he thought I took it as a non-threatening position for him to be in, I don't know. I bit my lip unsure of where or how to start.

Unloading the entire trauma to Lex, my British-exchange roomie at college, was surprisingly easy for me. That crazy redhead and I had a lot in common including mutated genes. Her mom worked with battered women so Lex grew up dealing with my kind of damage. Telling her when I hadn't told anyone for years was practically natural. Telling Logan would be anything but. Telling him would also involve managing him and his formidable rage. The last thing I needed was to have him fly off the handle in a growling, slashing fit of beserker anger with the agenda of running off to hunt down Bastion's guards and kill them. Something like that would definitely have the entire mansion in an uproar. And everyone finding out was **not** a pleasant notion for me.

"Jube," he urged gently.

I was helplessly clamping up on him. I couldn't for the life of me think of anything to say. The girl who spent her youth jabbering away because she felt the need to fill up the pregnant silences this troubled, haunted man produced was a ghost of the past.

"Would it be easier for you if I asked you questions?" He was so gentle, so tentative. The poor guy was walking on glass and I didn't know how to help him.

Finally I just nodded.

"When?" God, what a loaded question! There just wasn't going to be an easy way to do this. I decided on a different track.

"Wolvie, I need you to promise me something first. I need you to promise that you won't lose your temper and go crazy on me, k? I can't handle that right now. I can already tell ya that you're not gonna like a single thing I have to say. Can you do that for me?" He was probably thinking it happened in college. That it would be the easiest think in the world to track down some frat loser who had drugged me or something.

He studied me. "Is that why you didn't tell me sooner? Cause you were afraid of my reaction, darlin'?"

"It's not exactly somethin' I'd go around tellin' to everyone, Logan. It's hard to talk about. I love ya to death, and I know you'll always be there for me, but…" I trailed off. The ugly truth was that he **wasn't** always there for me. Sometimes circumstances outside of our control prevented it. Sometimes shit happens. Once Logan learned the specifics, I knew he'd feel guilty. My pain traded for the X-Men's escape.

He took a deep breath. Grabbed my hand. I squeezed back gratefully.

"I promise, Jubilation. I ain't gonna do anything drastic." He looked me directly in the eye, stormy blue eyes holding back a deep-seated anger—but an anger that was under control.

"When?" he asked again, his voice rough.

I took a deep breath, trying to tell myself that I wasn't helplessly trapped, that Logan only wanted to help me.

"Operation: Zero Tolerance."

He bolted up in the bed, a look of complete shock and despair overtaking his craggy features. "No," he whispered, "no."

He started breathing heavily and I was afraid that he would react the way he said he wouldn't, promise be damned. "Jubilation, how could you—how could you not tell anyone darlin'? It's been what?** Five years**? And the nightmares are still **this **bad?!"

I stared at him coolly until he finally calmed down.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I was embarrassed. I didn't want anyone to know."

"We could have helped you."

I scoffed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I didn't really **want** your help, Logan." I tried not to sound so damn bitter, but failed. "You had your own shit going on. The fact that I had been kidnapped without anyone even knowing and tortured wasn't enough for special treatment."

Wolvie really does have this guilty expression that he's managed to perfect over the decades. He had the grace to wear it now.

"Jubilee—"

"**Don't**, Logan. I'm not blaming you, I'm not blaming anybody. What happened to me was **not your fault**. You and the X-Men were just as helpless" until I saved you "and technically, I was Frost and Banshee's responsibility. **Everyone** was having trouble, **everyone** was having near-death experiences; it was an all-around** bad time** to be a mutant."

He sat facing me in silence, mulling over my words.

"Ain't your fault either, darlin'. You know that, don't you?" he gripped my shoulders in an effort to instill this belief. "What happened to you was not your fault." Tears threatened again at his words, at his conviction.

"I know," I said in small voice, collapsing against him again. "I know."

I took a few shuddering breaths. I really didn't want to start sobbing again; last night was more than enough for me.

I knew there was more he wanted to know. "Ask."

"Was it a part of the torture for information? Or…a guard taking liberties?"

If I lied, he'd know. Oh, shit. "No…it wasn't a part of the regular…during the regular sessions…it was psychological. No one laid a hand on me."

"Then what changed?"

I shut my eyes. "I opened the door for you. Bastion wasn't watching…and…" I opened my eyes to look at him and instantly wished I hadn't.

"You…you freed us?" Horrible understanding dawned. "You…and they…"

In a flash, he was up from the bed, claws out, snarling like a beast from the bowels of hell, and pacing like a caged mad thing.

"Wolvie—**please**—don't do this…"

His eyes went red and my hair stood on end in alarm. The air practically crackled with his rage. I leapt at him grabbing at his arms in a ridiculously stupid move that should have gotten me skewered. "LOGAN! Please, please get it together!" I grabbed at his face with both hands, frantic for him too look at me and actually** see** me, frantic for him to listen to me.

He snarled and broke away. I lunged again wrapping my arms around him in a desperate hug. It was either draw in his claws or risk stabbing me. He retracted. And I yelled.

"DAMN YOU, LOGAN! YOU PROMISED ME! YOU FUCKING PROMISED!" He collapsed onto the floor, taking me with him and raggedly drew breath into his lungs. I looked up at him and was shocked to see tears running through his beard. "Wolvie…no…please…shhh…" I wrapped my arms around him tighter. I wasn't expecting this. I never expected this.

He squeezed back so hard I almost couldn't breathe. "God, Jubilation…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

God, I was a blubbering mess.

"Okay, shh, it's okay, Wolvie, please..."

He stiffened against me, regaining his control.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry."

His hands move to my hair, stroking through the strands gently for a long while.

"Who else knows, darlin'?" He finally asked after a while.

I pulled back to look him in the face again, because this was crucial for me. "Only Lex, my roommate. No one else, Wolvie, and I wanna keep it that way."

"What about therapy, Jubilation? Those nightmares seem like it happened recently. You can't go on like this, darlin'. You might think you're moving passed it, but you ain't."

"Lex is hooking me up. Her mom kind of specializes in, well, stuff like this."

"Isn't her mom in England?"

"That's what I said. But, yeah, they have someone who knows someone. I don't want someone here at the mansion, I don't want someone I've known for years, and I don't want a goddamn **telepath** looking into it, k?"

"Whatever you want, darlin'."

"Damn straight whatever I want."

I sighed, wanting to be done with the conversation, but could tell Wolverine had more to ask. I looked at him, waiting.

"Last thing, darlin' I promise. Why leave the bathroom light on? Is it-"

"I was blindfolded, Logan. I couldn't see anything, it was utterly dark and I never knew what was about to-to happen. I always sleep with a light on now." Which he wouldn't know since I never really lived in the mansion since I was thirteen.

"God, Jubes," he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, darlin'. I-if there's anything, anything I can do…"

I wrapped my arms around his middle and squeezed as hard as possible which isn't hard when you're all muscle and adamantium. "It's okay, Wolvie, really it is." Odd how reassuring him made **me **feel better. Then again, I always felt better when I was the one taking care of him. Maybe that's one of the reasons I held off on telling him. "I'm gonna be getting help, and it's not always this bad, my memories just got triggered recently, s'all."

He stiffened against me. "How?" His voice was deadly. Shit.

"Nothin' big. Stupid misunderstanding."

"Your lyin', Jubilation."

I sighed. God, his sense of smell was damned annoying sometimes.

"Don't worry about it, Logan."

"What happened?" He was a stubborn son of a bitch.

I rolled my eyes. "Drunken guy at a party went in for a feel…"

Here came the growling…

"Oh, calm down, would ya! Christ, ya think I can't handle myself against some macho jerk?! I kneed him in the balls so hard he threw up, k? Happy now?"

"No. Not if that's enough to cause these nightmares. Bastard deserves more than that—"

I slapped his chest with a heated-up palm to get my point across. "Don't go crazy-protective on my ass now, Logan, or I'll blast ya into the wall again. I grew up; I'm an adult, I can take care of myself, ok?" I was nose to nose to him, hoping that he'd register my proximity as a potential threat. "If I need your help, I **know** you'll be there, but you damn well better wait for me to ask!"

"What if somethin' prevents you from askin' darlin'?"

I rolled my eyes again. Scott and Emma hoped I'd grow out of it. I'll stop my eye-rolling when Wolverine stops growling. "You're a smart guy who's capable of interpreting situations accurately—right? I trust your judgment."

He looked at me solemnly. "You're gonna have to give me a grace period for a while, Jubilation. My judgment of such situations is gonna be skewed for a while."

I smiled at him. "Well, at least you're admitting it. I do believe you're growing as a person, Logan," I teased him lightly.

He gave me a small smirk of his own. "Brat," he muttered under his breath although he knew I could hear him perfectly well. And then: "Ok, darlin', breakfast time?"

I pulled back a bit. "Ummm…"

"C'mon, Jubes, you never turn down food."

I ducked my head down. "I usually skip breakfast after…a night like last night. I'll wait for lunch, k?"

He glowered at me and then came to the quick observation of "You're too damn skinny, kid."

"Oh, and you mention this **now**? Please, dude that's totally lame."

"I don't see you eat by noon—"

"Two," I counter. "I still consider noon morning."

"Fine. I don't see you eat by two, I'm throwin' Hank at you," he warned severely.

I sighed. Again. Dramatically. "Fine. C'mon, let's at least feed **you**, I don't like you on an empty stomach. You're too excitable."

He chuckled and it was wonderful to hear.


	3. Chapter 3

We climbed out of bed and headed for his door which turned out to be the worst timing in the world. Logan opened the door for me, I walked through all sleep-eyed, bed-headed, and in his clothes no less, and ran right into the resident Iceman. "Whoa! Sorry—" Bobby started. Then did a double-take. Followed by another "Um, whoa…"

We stared at each other. "Um…hi ya Bobster."

"Hey Jubes."

More staring. Logan glowered and growled.

Bobby turned pale, then blushed, and rushed passed us to the stair case. Wow, can we say monumentally awkward? I turned and looked at Logan at a loss as to what to do.

He sighed the ultimate sigh of resignation, put his arm around my shoulders and muttered, "C'mon darlin, before all the food's gone."

****

I think I can actually tell you the exact second I grew up. When I transformed from out-of-control teenager to a mature, young adult with good taste. It was a day I was sitting in the Rec Room on the couch watching TV much like I was doing now. I turned on the tube and quickly changed it too my favorite station—MTV. Watched about half of the current Real World episode that was airing, wrinkled my nose in disgust and said, "This is utter and total crap."

Thus, the adult Jubilation Lee was born.

Okay, so maybe it had more to do with X-men related events, but I **still** think that was an important moment for me.

I sat flipping channels trying to find something that was at least mediocre and didn't involve reality TV. Talk about Mission: Impossible. Bobby entered with a bag of Doritos and pulled up a piece of couch next to me.

"Where was I when TV got god-awful?" I asked.

"Massachusetts?" Bobby guessed.

I finally left it on the news. Apparently Americans were eating too many beats. They had even done a poll to determine that, yes, indeed, Americans were eating too many beats.

"Sooo…"

"So."

"What's new?"

I rolled my eyes. "We fell asleep talking."

"I wasn't—"

"You were too."

"It's just that…" he trailed off.

I turned to look at him in surprise. He really did suspect…things…why did he suspect things? "It's just that what?"

Bobby was unusually quiet. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Bobby…"

"He looked guilty, Jubes. Like he got caught doing something…he shouldn't have."

"Oh, PLEASE!" I exclaimed in total exasperation. "He did not!"

"Yeah, I know, you're probably right. I'm just sayin'…guys notice these things…"

I checked the time and then made a grab for the bag of chips. It was 1:55 and Logan would be along any minute to check on me. Best he find me stuffing my face.

"So when's your roommate showing up?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Cool. What's her powers?"

"Telekinetic castration of men." Bobby choked on a chip.

I grinned impishly. After the comment about Wolvie, he deserved it. "She's a flyer and has solar energy beam thingies. Her eyes are yellow and they glow when she uses her powers. Totally cool."

"Energy beam thingies?"

"Comes out of her hands, makes shit go boom. Kind of similar to Havok in that it's energy signature is solar, but she doesn't need to be charged like him. Not quite as powerful though."

"I'd think flying would make up for that."

"Right?! She takes me up every once in a while." I lean my head back on the couch in total bliss. "God, it is **so** totally the best feeling in the world."

"Anyone else at Empire State know about your powers?"

"Nope, and we like it that way."

"Cool."

A few minutes later Logan wondered in glowering at me. He glanced at Bobby, dismissed him, then focused all of his formidable attention on my handful of chips. "That all you've had?"

"Um, no?" It was his turn to roll eyeballs. I was almost proud of him.

"C'mon, we're goin' to get you some real grub." He grabbed my chip-less hand and pulled me up off the couch.

"Define 'going'."

"Going to someplace that isn't here."

"You payin'?"

"Sure, darlin'."

"Can we take your scoot?"

"If you wanna."

"Can I drive?"

"Not if my life depended on it."

"But Wolvie…"

He dragged me out of the room and I looked back to give Bobby a quick wave goodbye. Bobby had that look on his face again.

****

There's something about burgers and shakes with your fav guy to make a bad night just fade away. Okay…so it was half a burger and a quarter of a shake because eating that freaking much food when it's been a while is just puke worthy. Luckily, I don't think Logan noticed how much I ate or didn't as he slurped down the rest of my cherry chocolate creamy goodness.

I grinned at him.

"What?" he raised an eybrow.

"Nothing. Just you. Downing that shake like a pro."

He crinkled his forehead.

"Brain freeze, Wolvster?"

"Brat."

I laughed.

"So…Scott…" he broke off.

"Has discovered that PBS is his favorite channel ever?"

That got me another smile—I admit I was really reaching to cheer him up and de-glower him as much as possible.

"Wants you're roommate to have a go at the danger room."

Well at least this was normal talk totally unrelated to past issues. However, I **may** have overreacted a little.

"OH. MY. GOD! Not **every** mutant has to be an X-men you know! Not **every** mutant has to jump through his and the Professor's hoops and tests and live up to their freaking expectations! They haven't stopped asking me since I got back! So what if I haven't really blossomed into a full team member?! There are **other** things a person can do with their life! I'm going to **college**! I'm working hard! I sucked it up at the Academy and any other stupid schooling you guys **tried** to put me through as a minor! I'm getting straight A's now!! Do you have** any** idea how hard that is?? Well, okay, one class might be a B because I haven't gotten the final back, but that's still really, really hard for a freaking physics major at EMPIRE!".

At this point I was standing and breathing hard and Wolverine was staring at me. So was everyone else in the restaurant. Cheeks reddened, I quieted and took my seat as gracefully as I could.

"Scott will have to just ask **her**."

"Okay, Jube."

"Okay, then."

"Want some more shake?"

He offered me what was left of the cherry chocolate.

"Yes, please."

****

Wolverine was quiet for the rest of the outing and even though it's hard to converse on a Harley, I still felt like it all had to do with me and my extremely awkward freak out over Lex's supposed X-men tryout. As he pulled into the x-garage with all the various wheeled wonders we own and helped me off the scoot with his gruff and gentlemanly way, I wanted to melt into the pavement, I was so embarrassed.

"Jubilee…"

I ducked my head and refused to look at him.

"You said you've been working really hard…that's not all just academic. The few times you've been out in the field recently…you've been top notch. And it's obvious you're not really letting loose with your powers. Scott would give you full team status in a heartbeat if you asked, Jubilation."

I finally looked at him. "It's just…I wanted it for **so** long when I was younger. But I just…fell behind. I couldn't make myself go the distance y'know? Paige **wanted** it and worked for it. And Monet's just naturally…bleh"—which totally meant perfect—"and I just couldn't make myself…" I took a breath. "I choked and then shit happened and then I didn't want it and then more shit happened and then I just became determined to be successful at other things…but still be good at what I inevitably needed to be. And, wow, this makes no sense."

"You'll always be placed in a situation where you'll need to be good in a fight."

"Exaclty."

"Most mutants find themselves in those situations, Jubes. That includes Lex. Danger room could be good for her."

"Yeah…yeah…I'm just…I don't know. She's **normal** y'know? As normal as it gets for us. I just feel like even **walking** into this mansion can fuck that up for her."

"You make us sound awful" Logan said. I could tell he was mostly joking, but there was an edge to his tone. "And watch your language."

I cracked a smile, letting the tension diffuse as he put an arm around me. I made towards the door, but he stood his ground, staring at me intently with an unfamiliar look.

"Wolvie?"

"You're not carefree anymore, Jubilation."

He brushed my side bangs away from my face with his other hand.

"Um…"

"I mean it's been there for a while, but it really took hold of you now, darlin'."

"Y'know…natural cycle of life an' stuff." I suddenly felt weird. Like my walls were down. Not that I have as many around him. Especially after last night.

He continued to look at me with the same intense expression on his face when we were suddenly interrupted.

"Um…"

Of** course**, it was Bobby. And Hank.

"Like what's up dudes?" I said refusing to step away from Logan. He stood his ground as well.

"We felt the intense urge to fill the gaping chasms of our bellies with gratuitously adipose edibles."

"Hank? Did you just say bellies in all that other mumbo jumbo? What, you couldn't come up with something more creative?"

"I find that it helps those around me if I give reference points in my 'mumbo jumbo' as you so jovially put it, Jubilation."

"Ah…"

Logan continued to stand there with his arm around me. Don't get me wrong, it's not like we weren't affectionate in the past…it's just that he seemed…clingy. No, that's not right. More like protective with a dash of…needing? God, Bobby has that look on his face again.

Hank started to realize there was tension. His fur shifts when he feels awkward. "Well…enjoy your afternoon, Jubilation, Logan."

"You too, Blue."

We make for the door, in step with each other, his arm still around me, and me trying to act nonchalantly. Nothing different here, just two best buds hanging out who haven't seen each other in forever. Who have just been catching up. Who share affection. His hand on the small of my back is warm through the thin material of my shirt and for some odd reason my mouth is dry. I wonder what Bobby and Hank end up talking about.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, all I have to do is close my eyes. It's that simple. Bathroom light is on, sheets are clean. Wolvie's ancient shirt that I stole when I was thirteen is as comfy as ever. So now all I have to do is close my eyes and drift into blissful, blissful sleep and then everything will just be perfection.

Sigh.

Yeah freaking right.

There would be no sleep for me tonight. Not just because I felt freshly haunted, but because there were too many goddamn thoughts rolling around in my head. Things aren't different like I'm thinking they are. I mean they're **different** because he knows now, but the rest is just in my imagination, right?

And, okay, I had a crush on him, sure. I can **totally** own up to that now. Emphasis on had though. There's nothing now. I was a girl, he was my hero, whatever. I am completely over **all** feelings for Wolverine except those that fall under the title of friend. And teammate. Sorta family. Yeah, family. Mentor, student. Really, really, really good friend. Lifeline.

Shit.

I toss the covers off, grab some jammy pants, and socks and pad down to the rec room. Sleep was just not going to work for me tonight. Reruns of FRIENDS episodes, however, are my best friend, and I brought the entire series on DVD with me.

****

So...I totally don't care what kind of a badass you think you are but, waking me up super early is a GREAT way to get your badass self blasted into a wall. I form a plasma globule automatically while growling. Okay, growling is a very loose term, especially when one associates herself with the likes of Wolverine and other beasts. It was more of a morning gurgle with my nose wrinkled up. And my teeth bared. It made me sneeze all over the place.

Speaking of beasts… "Well, Jubilation, I dare say that was an interesting tactic. What with the extremely potent ball of energy floating from your hand I was hardly expecting to be spat upon. Bravo."

"Beast."

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, it is a public room."

"Where am I?"

"The recreational room. On our luxurious sofa. It appears that you fell asleep while utilizing the Digital Video Disk player late last night."

"Right. Okay. Sorry about the sneeze."

"No worries. Couldn't sleep?"

"Yeah, I hear it's like an epidemic or something."

"Especially in these premises."

"What time is it?"

"Seven in the morning."

"Lovely. I think I might try to go catch a few more z's in my very own bed then."

"Or you could join us for a morning work out." Scott walked in looking positively chipper with a special morning glow on his face that some people get when they enjoy being productive sooner rather than later. I will never have that glow. However, I **did** feel jittery and doubted I could actually go back to sleep anytime soon.

I groaned. Oh, why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this? But, hey, I still felt stressed and it has the added benefit of getting your mind off things. And FRIENDS obviously wasn't getting it done.

"Okay fine. Let me just…go get a uniform or something."

****

I pulled up the zipper on my highly specialized—meaning several intelligent men had their stretchy slash furry finger prints all over it—loaner in preparation for my "danger" morning. Yay. Or rather I **tried** to pull the zipper up. At least to a height that involved paltry things like decency.

"You have GOT to be kidding me. This is ridiculous. They don't **act** like I'm thirteen anymore and then they go and pull something like this. Heads. Will. Roll."

"Y'know I've been kind of worried about you lately darlin' but talkin' to yerself is gonna want me to go an' get Frosty."

I turn to face an irritatingly amused Wolverine in my irritatingly embarrassing predicament and watch his face go from amusement to shock and then an alarming shade of red as he realized my uniform didn't properly cover my lovely lady lumps. Oh, dear God.

"Uh…"

"Yeah, um, it's too small for me."

He cleared his throat. And kept staring. Then I turned red. Then Bobby walked in.

"Holy hellfire Jubilation! Wow. Um. Damn. Um….you** know** it's too small right?"

PAAFFFF!

"Ow, my eyes!"

"Serves you right!"

"**Wolverine** got to look all he wanted!"

"Grrr" Snikt.

"Will someone PLEASE just go tell Scott this uniform **obviously** doesn't work for me and I need a different one?"

"Sure, darlin'." Wolverine took the fastest escape exit known to mutants—the door right behind him. He, at least, had the grace to take Bobby with him…

"Move it, bub. NOW."

"Ow, my arm, dude."

He also had the grace to run blind Bobby into the wall…

"OW! **Extremely** uncool!"

I groaned and rubbed my hands against my face. I contemplated banging my head against the wall for a while, but decided that would be a good way to bounce out of my uniform. It's not that I was really **that** busty—I'm not Psylocke, after all—it's just that the uniform was really **that** small. How utterly humiliating. How horrifying!! How—

"Sorry, about that Jubilee, I didn't even think to ask what size you are since your own isn't with…"

Scott's turn to get an eye-full. He handled it better than anybody, our dear, dear fearless leader.

"Ahem. Since your own isn't with you…this should…be better." Handed me the duds. Turned on the heel of his foot and exited military fashion. I should have gone back to bed.

****

"Okay, people, let's run this one by the numbers…nothing too extravagant."

We all voluntarily lined up to get beat up. Woverine, Iceman, Beast, Archangel, and Rogue. I stayed close to Rogue wanting to avoid as much male contact as possible considering us gals were outnumbered to say nothing of recent events. However, Bobby found his way right next to me. Wolverine was as far as possible. And Scott refused to look at me—that's right, I could **totally** tell even with his glasses completely covering his eyes and that stony-give-nothing expression on his face. I'm sooo on to him. Not even Scott is immune to my embarrassment.

"Jubes." Oh, please, Bobby. "So…"

"What in the hell is your crisis anyway, Drake?"

"No, Rogue, we're ignoring."

"Ignorin' what?"

"Him and anyone else with a penis."

"Hey, all I did was walk into a room."

"What is goin' **on **with you two?"

"Well, you see…"

"Nothing is going on," I insist.

"If you three are going to insist on talking, you three are up first." I can't decide if I appreciate or resent Scott's intervention. If we're fighting, we're at least not talking. But I also don't feel on top of my game. Rogue, Iceman, and I move towards the front like misbehaving school children. I pick at my lousy uniform—this one has a saggy butt. I really should have gone back to my freaking bed.

"Look, J, I'm sorry about earlier, I just…"

"Ignoring."

"That's mature."

"Like **you're** one to talk!"

"What the hell could have happened between the two of you this early in the mornin'?"

"She has a good point Drake, why are you even up?"

"Why are **you** up?"

"Stop that."

"Why don't y'all both st-"

BOOM! Cyclops stopped it for us. The next few moments were crazy blurs of my fireworks, ice, and Rogue's skunk tail as she zipped around the Danger Room throwing one high-powered punch after another at the old school Sentinels spouting bad computer jargon about targeting and terminating mutants. Hello, old computer-animated teenaged trauma. What a wonderful way to continue my monumentally shitty day. And I **still** can't believe they made these damned things **purple**!!

"Look out, Jubes!" Iceman saves me from what would have been a truly upsetting takedown slicking me along on his ice slide. I consider forgiveness. My booted feet slide next to him like I'm on my old roller blades and I go with it—gracefully I might add. We fall into old teammate patterns working with each other against a classic enemy and I admit I start to have fun with it. Limber gymnastic dodge, blast of pyrotechnics that takes down two Sentinels at a time—I am so very much cooler than my thirteen-year-old self.

I gotta say the best move of the day goes to Bobby and I when he glides me up to the last Sentinel, tosses me high in the air in this wonderful twist-flip of Olympic quality with my plasma flying out from both hands and blowing it to Kingdom come with enough firepower to shake the entire Danger Room. Let's not forget that Iceman catches me via ice slide before I go splat on the cold, hard metal floor.

Yay, team.

"HA!"

I smile. "Yep."

"Seriously, Jubilee that was pretty cool, huh?"

"Yep."

"C'mon…" Bobby nudges me. "We totally kicked ass just then. Tell me that felt good. I mean, that** had** to feel good."

"It felt good, Bobby," I replied automatically.

He forced me to a stop and looked at me seriously. "Wow. Something really is up with you, huh?"

"I…no..it's just…stuff."

"Y'know if you ever need anything…I mean I'm here for you…"

"To judge me and than ogle me?" I quirk my mouth to take the sting out of the words.

"I don't judge you!" He said defensively. No denial of the ogling.

"I meant the whole giving Wolverine 'The Look' whenever he's with me…"

"I didn't really mean that…well, yeah, but not in a really bad way…I mean…" He crinkled his face like he was thinking hard. "Technically who's anyone to really say anything anyway? You're an adult, he's an adult…"

Luckily we had reached the hallway by now, and no one else was paying attention to us. It was Wolverine and Archangel's turn in the ring and Rogue was going another round with the boys.

"Bobby, there's nothing…there's nothing going on. We're just…it's just that we—you see…"

Bobby gave me his significant look.

"It's not like that." I finished lamely.

"But it **could** be…"

I shook my head adamantly. "He would never, I mean c'mon!"

"But **you** would."

"Yes, do please bring up my old, and now embarrassing crush."

"Old?"

"Shut up."

"See?"

"I hate you." I truly should have gone back to bed. Did I just admit that out loud??

"Aw, it's nothing to feel bad about, J. Just think about how many one-sided crushes I've had in the past surrounded by all of these beautiful women. It's like a requirement for being an X-man."

"No…it is that bad. I don't need an active crush that's going no where right now. I just need a friend. I wouldn't know what to do with anything else." And now I felt tears pricking. Ugh. This conversation needed to end yesterday. "Look, Bobby, I really don't want to do this right now. I'm just…I'm gonna go shower."

I leave Bobby standing in the hallway and make way for my room, but he was apparently not finished with the conversation.

"He looks at you differently now."

I stop. Turn.

"Huh?"

Bobby walks towards me, an unusually serious look on his still boyish face. "He looks at you…like he would maybe look…

"…Yes?"

"At Jean."

"WHAT?! Please."

"Not-not exactly, Jubes…just similar. Different. That's just what it reminded me of."

I look at him in earnest. This was way, way too much to deal with considering the last twenty-four hours. Emotions are not to be trusted.

"Bobby—"

"He also was checking you out yesterday. When you weren't looking."

"I think you've finally gone round the bend. You know. Whacko? Coocoo? Mojo-level crazy." I pat his shoulder reassuringly.

"Hey, say what you want, but that's my take and I'm sticking to it. Guys are guys are guys and** that** guy" points emphatically at the danger room "is seeing you different, and is liking what he sees."

I just look at him and can't help but think of some of Logan's behavioral changes.

"On the downside, he does seem a little freaked out. Kind of a panicky, 'oh, shit' look on his face recently. And worried. So I don't know what's going on and I don't know what happened between the two of you that night, but I just thought you should know since you're little miss 'nothing is going on'."

****

So that was my morning. Lex arrived in the afternoon.

"Bloody brilliant!"

"Yeah."

"Marvelous! Fabulous!"

"…"

"Spectacular!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Yes, the mansion really is a glory to be hold, but really?

"A little over the top, eh?" Lex's perfectly red eye brows arched over her amber eyes.

"You know no one but me can hear you, right? And that I know you don't get this excited unless couture or a Brad Pitt movie premiere is involved."

"I was trying to get your bloody friggin' attention, bitch!"

"HUH?"

"You haven't listened to word one since you picked me up at the airport! The last half of the drive I talked to you like I was seriously thinking of buggering Edward with a strap-on next time I saw him because its been so dry!"

I jerk to a stop. "Wow. **That** dry?!"

Her eyes turn absolutely frigid. "That. Freaking. Dry."

"Okay. You're right. I'm a bitch. I'm so sorry. I think there might be chocolate. Um, we'll go to my room…"

"Jubes! BUGGER the chocolate!! You have the power to zone out like nobody's business, but this is impressive even for **you**!"

"You must be the roommate."

Cyke has impeccable timing. Just in time to hear Lex's very special language. Lucky for her, she has all the charm of a skeazy politician at the height of their Washington shenanigans.

She started with the classic firm handshake. "Scott Summers. AKA Cyclops. AKA Fearless Leader. I'm Alexandra Moore. Very pleased to meet you, good sir. This mansion is absolutely fabulous"—I'm trying not to choke—"and I'm so glad to be here. Thank you **so** very much for inviting me."

At this point, she's really kicked the British social politeness into overdrive and is still pumping Cyke's hand vigorously up and down.

"Better than buggering a certain guy friend?"

To her credit, Lex doesn't lose face.

"Much, much better sir, and getting better by the second."

This, as some of the other X-men file into the foyer on their way out to a car show hosted by one of Warren's companies. Oh, the overwhelming testosterone. I scan the crowd for the short one and find him lacking.

They all spot Lex within seconds of each other.

"Hey, I'm Bobby.."

"You must be the roommate..."

"Bonjour, ma petite, cherie, J'mapelle Remy Lebeau, tell me, do you know French like some English mademoiselles?"

Good God. I immediately fade into the background as the male population of the mansion lavish interest and affection upon my leggy redhead of a roommate. I swear, because of Jean alone, Lex's red hair sets off alarm bells in all the guys head to pay extra attention to her and make her feel welcome. Don't get me wrong; I'm not jealous. Considering how long Jean's been gone, it's actually kind of sweet. Dani Moonstar brought a friend back to the mansion last week. Cute as a button, but a brunette. The guys loved her, but didn't have quite the same flair in their greeting. I don't even remember the girl's name.

Scott, bless him, realizes I'm not a wall fixture.

"There's an empty guest room two doors down from yours--"And right next to Wolverine's--"Lex can stay there, no problem. I'll go ahead and take her bags up now. There's always food in the kitchen, of course, but I don't think anyone's planning on cooking for a group tonight. Not with the car show going on."

"Tell me something, Cyke. What with all the cool, fascinating, and ahead of their time gadgets that are in the mansion--including the jets and other vehicles--is this car show **really** that exciting?"

He gives me an expressionless look.

"Guy thing?"

"Guy thing," he confirms.

Whatever. I think they all just like doing something normal guys do. Kinda more along the lines of "human thing" or "non X-men thing". That and one of the new Aston Martin's is suppose to be there and they're apparently only releasing something like twenty of them.

"Ok, then. Thanks, Cyke."

"No problem, Jubilee."


	5. Chapter 5

Hope you all enjoy this installment:)

"Well! They are all **lovely**. How have you not dated even **one** of them?!"

Lex and I had moved up to her room and were getting her settled now that the guys had all headed out and Cyke had brought her bags up.

"Umm...well for one thing, I'm jailbait."

"Utterly not true!!! You no longer even qualify as a **teen**! You're bleeding **twenty**!"

"Well, not **now**, Lex! But I met all of them when I was thirteen and they were...older than I am now."

"All of them?"

I thought back to the particular group of guys heading out. All of them were senior X-men without even so much as single New Mutant or Young X-men or whatever that had graduated up in the ranks.

"Yep, all of them."

"Huh. Well, they were certainly friendly with **me** and I'm the same age as you."

I reach back into the closet for the rest of the hangers for Lex's clothes. Xavier's supplies the nice wooden ones for their guests apparently; I have plastic ones from Wal-Mart in my closet. Hot pink.

"Totally different animal. They don't have any idea of what you were like before you had your period or when you wore a training bra. Really affects their perspective. Trust me. I don't even get flirted with except for Remy, and trust me, once you get to know him you'll understand how that **so** does not count. Besides which, he's only ever with non x-women or Rogue and mostly it's Rogue and the non mutant girls are just fillers for when he's lonely...except for that blond cajun bitch assassin girl. Or something."

"So, do you have a thing for him, then?"

My eyes bulge. "Remy?! **Gambit?** Hell no! What made you think that?"

"You babbled over him. Which means there's something going on with Remy specifically or how those guys in general don't even register you on their radar. Because there was babbling, and I know you Jubes. Babbling equals something."

"It didn't used to," I pout.

"It does now, luv."

I sigh. "It's not Remy...it's not even any of the ones you met, and it's not really a thing. I think I'm just imagining it. And that Bobby is imagining it even more than I freaking am."

"Is this the part where we should actually get the chocolate out? And why you've been so bloody quiet lately?"

Hard knuckles rap quickly on the oak door, interrupting our conversation.

Lex bounds over to the door and opens it before I even think about who it could possibly be. Storm, or Rogue, or one of the other X-women would have been my first guess.

"So you're the roommate." Wolverine's gruff voice is enough to send a shiver down my spine. He offers a large hand. Wolverine never seems so short as when a leggy redhead is standing right next to him.

"Oh my...Alexandra Moore, pleased to meet you."

"Yeah, you too, kid," he squeezes past Lex effortlessly, inviting himself in. I suddenly feel my ears go hot for no explainable reason.

"Hey darlin'." Suddenly Lex is "kid" and I'm not?

"Hey Logan. No car show today?"

"I'm not a sports car kinda guy."

"Right. So no hogs for you to drool over?"

Lex wrinkles her nose comically. "Why would he drool over **hogs**?"

"Harleys." We both pipe up simultaneously.

"Ah."

"So what are you two up to tonight?"

Okay, this is getting slightly more puzzling by the second. Why would Wolvie care? He hates the girly.

"Um, not too much Wolvie, just getting settled in...might go see a movie or somethin'."

"Not going to meet the rest of the guys after their car show? I heard Storm and Rogue might be going, maybe even Emma."

Huh. No one tells me anything. Clearly the X-men were all really intent on blowing off some steam. Lex's eyes, of course, really light up at this prospect.

"Oh, yeah, maybe that too," I say lamely, caught off guard.

He turns to Lex, changing the subject abruptly. "So your mom works in England."

Lex gives him a puzzled look. "Yeah."

"But she's got colleagues in New York?"

"More like friends in the same field that she went to school with."

He nods like this information is adequate. My world suddenly clicks into place.

He makes for the door, somewhat awkwardly. "Let me know if you wanna go meet the guys. I'll drive if you want."

"Cool, Wolvie, thanks."

Lex shuts the door behind him and I immediately give her a look that says shut the fuck up, fully aware that she's going to start whispering questions furiously and fully aware the Wolverine will hear every word from the hallway or even the next room. I talk her into going for a walk on the grounds to get us some safe distance.

"**Who** the bloody hell was **that**?" Is what she starts with. "I mean, he was **something**. Really short, right, but broad, and my **god** does he have this intense..." she waves her hand in the air, searching for the correct description for the Wolverine, "**presence** about him. **How** have you not mentioned him to me before? And my god, what is going on with the two of you? You should have seen the look on your face when he came into the room! I mean, he's the one, right? He's bloody well got to be. That you're having "things" going on with? And **why** did he mention my mom and her **friends**?" Lex stops dead in her tracks and stares openly at me. "Oh, Jesus Christ. **HE KNOWS!"**

I give a resigned sigh. "Yes, he knows, Lex, and yes, he's...the one...that things are going on with. God, you don't even know the half of it!" We quickly end up by the dock, one of my all time favorite places for serious thoughts and serious discussions as I quickly and efficiently explain to Lex who Wolverine is and just what exactly our past is together and how utterly complicating out friendship has gotten in the last day or so.

"So..." Lex has been quietly thinking for the last several minutes. I had been trying to convince myself everything I just got finished telling her really wasn't as complicated as I was making it. Bobby's exaggerating and Wolvie's just acting weird because he knows what happened to me. Which sucks, but he'll get over it. And **so what** if I still kind of had a crush on him? Been there, done that, old news, who cares? I've dealt with it before, I'll deal with it again. Really, it doesn't change a single thing. Everyone--including me--just needs to calm down and it will all go back to normal.

"So...just how in love with him are you?"

I glower at Lex. And sigh. Because the fact that I don't immediately jump to absolute and certain verbal denial means it's at least partially true. Or maybe even completely.

"That bad, eh?"

I hang my head in defeat. "I am** so** utterly screwed."

"Nah, course you're not. Maybe...just maybe..." Her eye brows start wriggling up and down..."It's the beginning of a new era for you. Picture it: the Jubilee Has a Serious Boyfriend Era! OH, the possibilities! I mean, okay, so he's a little on the hairy side and rough around the edges, but did you **see** that chest?!"

Lex honestly and truly does not have "a type". She just loves men. And Wolverine's intense...uniqueness has obviously grabbed her awareness.

"Yes...I have seen his chest. Naked, wet, bloodied, gored, fried, and in a myriad of other scenarios."

"Yummy."

I smile at her. "You have NO idea. BUT, trust me when I say this is not the beginning of a new era. This has all happened before, and will probably all happen again, unfortunately."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just the cycle of my life. I crush on him hopelessly, get over myself, and enjoy our great friendship, then shit happens and we don't see each other for a while and then he shows up out of no where, usually shirtless and growly and all wood-prowly, totally jump starting the crush again, then I get over myself and totally enjoy our amazing friendship, then more shit happens." I take a huge breath as I have depleted my air supply.

"And then she babbles while hopelessly in love." Lex has the look that says, if we were at a pub, I would toast your heart ache and buy you several shots. It makes me miss England and the fact that it's legal for me to drink there. It also makes me miss my fake I.D. that I'm pretty sure I lost while heinously drunk. "So what is all this shit that keeps happening that you don't see each other for a long while?"

"X-men stuff. Wolvie has this whole prodigal son thing going on where he leaves for a while and then comes back, and so I get left too. And then I did plenty of leaving on my own."

We stare out over the water for a while enjoying what has suddenly become a gorgeous sunset. I hadn't realized how much time had passed.

"Y'know what I'm thinking, luv?"

I grin. "Please tell me it involves alcohol, mate."

Her face turns introspective. "Hmm. It would be interesting to see if we could get him to buy you some drinks. See just how adult he might see you..."

"Wait---what?"

"We are going out tonight. Meeting up with all the other X-men and blowing off some steam. And we **are taking the fabulous Wolverine up on his offer to drive us around."**

"Uh..."

"AND, you are going to wear something gloriously low cut."

"Lex, I'm **really** not too sure about this."

"Trust me, Jubes, we need to do this. You don't have to act flirty or anything, you just have to look stunning. I need to see--what's his real name again?"

"Logan."

"Right. I need to see Logan's reaction to you for myself. Then, I will clearly be able to tell you if I think you should proceed with the usual cycle of 'getting over yourself' OR if I think you honestly have a shot with him."

She drags me up off the grass and starts towards the mansion with a purposeful stride.

I pull on her hand to stop her. "Yeah, but Lex, you're not getting it. Even if Wolverine is...having thoughts in that direction...he'll never act on it. Never. It will probably just...ruin the friendship." I feel the dreaded expression cross my face. Fear and worry. Things I never try to feel, much less own up to.

Lex stops and brushes her hand along my hair in an unusually maternal move. "I'm not asking you to do anything overly presumptive...just, be all adult and lovely and utterly sexy."

"This is a Bad Idea Lex. With capitol letters. Wolvie's already not acting like his usual self because he knows what happened to me. It's not the best time to gauge his reaction."

"Hm. We'll see. I want to try regardless."

I should have done something drastic. Like faked a heart attack or a seizure to keep from going out. I could pee on myself if I really tried. Maybe. That's how you know the seizure is real according to the delightfully handsome Dr. House. Man, I really **do** have a thing for older men. Lex, however, is a force of nature and there was just no stopping her.


	6. Chapter 6

"What are you girls drinking?"

So, of course, we end up at the bar with Logan, decked out in our finest. Lex looks stunning in her slinky red dress that shows the mileage of her legs. I had originally opted for a yellow number with short sleeves, but Lex had found my black dress with the sequin designs on it. It was short with a daring v-neck and an even more daring drop in the back.

"Mixed drinks?" Lex smiles.

"Beer?" I smile even wider.

Wolvie, for his part, smiles an absolutely charming smile. One that he doesn't wear often. "Nice try. How about some club soda mixed with sprite or something equally nonalcoholic?"

We pout simultaneously. Lex even bats her eyelashes and leans over to display arousingly nice cleavage. I'm a straight girl and even I have to stand up and pay attention to it. Logan, surprisingly displays perfect self-control. Coming with Wolvie had both pros and cons. He was happy to give us a thrilling bat-out-of-hell driving experience, and his presence meant neither of us were carded at the door. However, a sober DD and a free pass into twenty-one-year-olds-and-over land is pointless if said DD doesn't let you drink.

"Bartender! How about a shot of whiskey, and two sprites? Extra lime."

"Extra lime, Logan? Har, har. C'mon. We're with you...you offered to drive..."

"It's not like we haven't learned how to hold our alcohol at this point...do you have any idea how much schnapps a British girl can consume in her teen years?"

Logan wrinkles his perfect nose--perfect thanks to his healing factor.

"Schnapps? Really?"

"My gran lived with us for a while." Lex now looks totally pathetic. "I have paid my dues. And where I hail from, I have been legal for years. For godssake, man, have pity on us."

I narrow my blue eyes. "Dude, you like, share your six packs with me."

The bartender delivers said drinks, two sprites included with extra lime. How quaint.

"A few sips does not mean share" he argues.

"Three whole beers out of a six pack is splitting down the middle." He looks chagrined, remembering a night about a year ago where we had both been on a particularly hairy mission when I was home from college. I couldn't sleep and had found him on the roof starting said six pack. He hadn't even said anything to me. Just looked at me like he was relieved to see me, handed me a beer and that was that. Three was enough to get me drunk with my small size and the fact that I hadn't eaten before the mission and all I could remember was his enigmatic grin as he escorted my giggling ass off the roof and into my bed. I woke up the next morning in yesterdays clothes.

"A couple of drinks, is perfectly reasonable," I say in my negotiator's tone, "we're not looking to get shit-faced."

"Speak for yourself, mate," Lex mutters in my ear.

At this point, Bobby has spotted us, coming up next to me and Lex, eyes only for the redhead. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Lex downs her sprite like a pro, throws her long arm around the Iceman, and says, "Absolutely."

They make their way down to the other end of the bar, leaving me and Wolvie alone. I turn to face him with a pleading look on my face. He sighs, downs the whiskey, and flags a different bartender.

"Two more."

*****

"Wow..." I cough and sputter as the third whiskey burns its way down my sensitive throat.

"You wimping out on me?" Logan taunts.

"Not on your life, dude." My voice starts to fail me though and it comes out as a rasp.

"Uh huh." Wolverine's tone is doubtful. He puts his powerful arm around me, lifting me up from the stool and leading me away from the bar. Standing up makes my head go all spinny and leaning into Wolverine feels extremely nice. All male and safe and exciting at the same time. My face leans into his neck all on its own and suddenly he's in front of me instead of beside me. His arms circle me wonderfully and I slowly begin to realize that the rocking feeling I'm experiencing is Wolverine swaying us back and forth instead of the whiskey in my system.

"Logan?" I'm proud to say I enunciate the two syllables properly.

"Hmm?"

"Are we dancing?" There's music in the background. I can't name it except to say that it's not club hip hop which totally makes sense because Wolverine would never dance to something like that.

"Dancing is a bit of a loose term, darlin'. This is more of me keeping you upright."

"Oh..."

He brings my right hand up against his chest while my other one stays around his waist and a I feel delightful stubble scrape across my temple. I soon find that slipping my hand into Wolverine's back pocket feels nice while helping me maintain this coveted upright position. Uprightness makes me think of alternative positions, however, and Wolverine's bed suddenly pops into my head, and my god, was I really sleeping in his bed only the night before last?

"Yeah, sweetheart, that was the other night."

And now I'm suddenly sweetheart? What? Holy crap...I begin to realize that I'm not fully aware of what I'm thinking as opposed to what I'm saying out loud. I pick my head up from his shoulder and look into his face and suddenly its deer-in-headlights for both of us.

I can taste his breath in my mouth and feel my brain start to sober up at the same time. The whiskey induced fire in my throat suddenly becomes a Wolverine-induced inferno in my body and god help me, before I even know what the fuck I'm really doing, I start to lean towards him...

He pulls away from me, but not far enough so that I fall flat on my face which would be utterly embarrassing.

"What?" Oh shit, I just made an ass of myself. I just crossed** the line**.

"Fresh air. We should go outside..." He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together--he never does that--and desperately pulls me towards the front door. I see a flash of startled faces--Lex and Bobby--before we reach outside.

Well, I gotta hand it to him...the fresh air really does bring harsh reality crashing down right onto my whiskeyed-up skull.

"Shit, Logan, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." His voice is gruff even for him.

"Oh, okay, then, who's fault is it?!"

"Christ, Jubes, it ain't nobodies damn fault. It just happened."

I turn to face him and realize what Bobby meant by that 'oh, shit, panicky look'. And how Bobby noticed Wolverine looking at me differently because I could see that look in his face now. And before when I almost kissed him. God, only three shots of whiskey and **I** almost kiss **him**.

I know Logan. I KNOW him. I realize what the percentage rate is when it comes to him running away from this. From me.

My words to Bobby come rushing back to me as I continue to regain my normal brain functions.

"It didn't happen though, Logan. It only almost happened. Almost counts, doesn't it?" My throat strains around a sob.

The panic starts to fade from his face as he thinks about what I say.

"I really could use a friend right now, Logan."

He looks back at the bar. "You already have a friend, Jubes. One who knows and can help."

Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh god, oh no. My heart speeds and anxiety overwhelms me. I should never have come out tonight, should never have put on this ridiculous slinky dress, should never have downed three shots in a fucking row. None of this should have happened.

"Logan..."

"I don't think I'm good friend material right now, darlin'."

I clench my jaw against the tears and feel sparks light up at my finger tips. I immediately decide that angry is more desirable over panicky despair and horrific sadness. Screw it, I learned from the best didn't I?!

"Oh, is **that** you're conclusion?! 'I'm not good friend material right now'??? **That's** what you fucking say to me?! You are **such** an asshole!" Two relatively small fireworks explode from my hands in multi-colored brilliance. The people hanging outside of the bar yelp and squeal at what they probably think is the next mutant/terrorist attack and run away.

Can I just say right now that my brain has not been working properly as of the last forty-eight hours? I mean, in my defense, these last days have not been typical.

Wolverine observes the crowd rapidly running away from us, then gives me a discerning look.

"FUCK!" Verbal outrage is preferable to power-oriented outrage according to Jubilee's Handbook on How to Have an Outburst in Public. And everyone thought my loudmouth was annoying when I was younger. **See** what happens when I choose a different method?!

"Maybe we should go for a walk," Wolverine suggests calmly. His calm juxtaposed to my anger only infuriates me more.

"Maybe we should go for a fast drive before the cops show up to arrest us."

"Smart girl." I role my eyes at him and glare while crossing my arms and enjoy the sound my heels make as I angrily stride towards the parking lot. If my hands are held in close to my body, the desire to not flash-fry myself and my beautiful dress does wonders for self control.

Sure enough, we hear sirens as we drive quickly in the opposite direction.

*****

After twenty minutes of severely awkward silence, Wolverine pulls off onto the side of a back road near unfamiliar woods. I don't know if I should be glad or despair at the fact that we're not home at the mansion. As if to prove a point, Logan turns the engine off, showing that he's expecting to be here plenty long to talk things out.

Hmm...not at all what I expected. Caught off guard, I make no move to break the silence and he rubs the scruff on his chin while facing out the side window, refusing to look at me.

"What I said before didn't come out right."

Several caustic remarks run through my head, but I hold onto my silence, knowing that I had already made a fool of myself.

"Nothing would ever stop me from...bein' your friend, Jubilation. And I know that's what you need right now. What I meant, was...it's different and more complicated and Lex and some of the others would probably be better for the job."

I take a deep breath, focusing on my breathing like in Yoga. Focus. Breath. Don't cry. Don't say something stupid.

"No one can replace you as my friend, Logan."

"I know that too."

We fall back into silence, but I can tell that he's struggling with words and I make a promise to myself to be patient with him. Heartfelt conversations are not his strong suit and he's trying so damn hard.

"I gotta say, darlin' two years ago and I never would have seen this comin' in a million years."

"Seen what? Dealing with my traumatic secrets?"

"Not what I'm talkin' about. Dealin' with you in general...how it changed. Even two years ago I never would have guessed..."

He trails off and I wait to see where he's taking this. Two years ago? Two years ago when I start hanging out at the mansion again on a regular basis. When I start going on full X-men missions again, and begin college and when I turn eighteen and am legally an adult. When I own up to the fact that if I don't make an effort to do something just for my own personal gratification and advancement I may always feel like the little tag-along. Eighteen was kind of a big year for me.

"I always knew how you felt about me, I just was never expecting to start feelin' the same way."

My stomach plummets at his words then shoots up to the level of my throat and about a million butterflies take up residence. Oh my god. It's not my imagination or Bobby's imagination; it really was happening and he was actually talking about it to my face. I think the Iceman just froze hell over.

My eyes had been boring holes into the glove compartment and I force them to look back at Logan. His expression is strained, but also surprisingly soft. Not nearly as panicked as I might have expected.

He looks straight at me without wavering and I force myself to get over my embarrassment. However, feeling my face go red doesn't help my state of mind.

"The same way?" My voice is as small as a mouse.

"Yeah." He flashes into a grin and I'm thrown for even more of a loop. "Remember the rooftop last year?"

"The six-pack. After the hostage situation at the elementary school in Delaware. Three whole beers means splitting down the middle," I quote back my earlier comment.

"Hit me then. The way you took the lead without even thinking about it. How you handled that unibomber knock off without even batting an eyelash. Even the look on your face when you realized we were too late to save all of them and how you held the little boy who was shot and bled out."

Tears roll down my cheeks as I remember other nightmares from other nights. "Jimmy Carson. He was eight."

Logan finds my hand and I remember how comforting his presence was a year ago on on the rooftop. I ended up laughing and drunk that night, but I had nightmares for two weeks straight when I left the mansion and went back to school. He called me every day for a month just to talk about nothing, but I knew he was checking up on me and it made me feel a little better each time.

We lapse back into silence and Logan reaches up to wipe the tears from my cheeks and ends up cupping my chin in his thumb and forefinger.

"I meant I can't be your friend right now without wanting more. It's easier when I just see you for a short break or a weekend...but you're going to be home for the whole summer. And that's a whole summer of watching you smile at me like you don't for anyone else, of..." he trails off again and my blush returns in full force. I pull my face away from his hands in an effort to help me think more clearly.

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Logan, **the Wolverine** has been harboring a crush on **me.** Holding a torch. Looking at me like he useta look at Jean. Turns out thinking clearly is not at all an easy task to manage. I feel like I've been zapped into an alternate universe by Gateway where my daydreams have suddenly become my real life.

Suddenly all my presumptions about the possibilities of this particular situation are nowhere close to what I expect. But there's one presumption I absolutely **have** to clear up because otherwise it'll just eat away at me.

"Are you going to leave?"

He looks at me levelly and I know I'm not totally off the mark because he doesn't seem surprised by my question. His answer surprises the hell out of me though.

"No, Jubilee, I'm not going to leave."

I hadn't realized I'd been desperately holding my breath until I exhaled in utter relief. "Promise?"

His face is grave and he doesn't take my plea as anything other than serious. "Promise."

I do believe I have completely sobered up at this point, but am starting to wish I hadn't. It's easier to ask some questions when your inhibitions are lowered. Otherwise it's like forcing yourself to pull out your own fingernails.

"So...what do we do now?"

"Not sure."

Ugh. Well, better to own up to it sooner rather than later. "I'm kinda at a loss here...I'm not exactly...practiced at...situations like this." I.E. I have never had a real relationship, have never had a real boyfriend, have never had a conversation like this in my twenty years. Please help.

His jaw clenches and his powerful hands grip the steering wheel. Anger washes over his features. "Guess I know why that is now, huh?"

I say nothing, realizing that the panicky look on his face earlier didn't necessarily have to do with his new feelings for me because they weren't new. He just told me he'd been feeling this way for a year and I was just a blind woman. The complications had really only started since he witnessed my nightmare.

He sighs, letting the anger fade away. "I just don't want to...start something you're not ready for. I honestly didn't think..."

Hurt inevitably wells up within me. "That I'd be damaged goods?"

"I didn't mean that for one fucking second, Jubilation!" he grabs my wrist hard and desperate. "I would **never** think that!"

Most women would recoil as his other fist slams through the side window, violently shattering the glass. I don't even flinch.

"Sorry, that wasn't aimed at you specifically...it's just...a thought I can't help but having sometimes, Wolvie."

He looks at me, clearly embarrassed that he lost it for a second there. Stupid really, considering the number of times I've lost my temper and caused property damage. It's my long-term hobby.

"I just didn't think that I would be the first to...start a relationship with you" he finishes lamely.

I can't help it. I smile wryly, thinking about the soul-bearing and difficult conversation we were in the middle of, the awkward silences that never usually happen between us, my public fireworks display and his fist through the window. "Is that what we're doing here, Logan?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, we can always say it maybe started with a first date instead of...this."

"A first date?" My voice goes back to being very, very small, and I'm irritated because this is a habit I've had since I was a kid and have yet to break myself of.

"We've got all summer. No need to rush."

Lex is going to drop over dead. Literally. I should break the news to her while standing in the Med Lab with Hank standing next to a defibrillator. And Hank preferably wearing ear plugs so as not to hear our conversation.

"Do you really, really mean that?"

"Only if you want me to. Ball's in your court, sweetheart, this is completely up to you. I'm not going to push."

"Then why did you pull away from me in the bar?" I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it out loud.

"You were drunk. I was never going to let it happen like that."

"Okay...um. So this is the last thing I was ever expecting. Ever." Oh, god, here comes babbling and there is just no stopping it. "And I think I might need some time to process all this, but I am not in no way saying no to you at all because this is only what I ever kinda really wanted and I would never, never say no, it's just that I don't know how to not fumble the yes part and come off as some inexperienced girl who doesn't know what she's doing and, well, maybe can we just hang out with no pressure while my brain processes the impossible?" And sure enough, my voice goes up into another octave before my babbling ends. See, this is what I wanted to avoid.

Wolverine has the grace to not laugh at me, but he does smile. I feel like he's suddenly been smiling a lot tonight and I'm not at all use to seeing it.

He takes my hand. "Sure."

I look at him discerningly. "Did you really just understand all that?"

"I think I got the gist."

Apparently I didn't even understand myself because I still feel clueless.

"So...what are we doing again?"

"Starting things...slowly...and with no pressure."

I nod, and realize that I suddenly feel exhausted. This conversation was more taxing than upper level physics homework. And I'm apparently starting a relationship with a guy who's well over a hundred when I'm at a time in my life when I still **have** homework. Oh, god.

Logan starts the car up, satisfied with how the conversation went, and screeches back onto the road at full speed.

"Logan? We're you planning on saying any of this to me before I got home from school?"

He shakes his head. "Not exactly...I was kind of planning on...letting it sit on the back burner til you were older."

"How old?"

"Old enough to drink. Maybe even longer." He lowers his voice to a barely discernible mumble. "Thirty crossed my mind a time or two."

I **knew** the age thing had to bother him at least a little. "Thirty."

He looks aggrieved. "Wol---" I catch myself. Concentrate on grown-up language and adult names in a conversation like this one, Jubes. "Logan...are you **sure** you want to do this now? I understand if we maybe wait a while..."

Oh, sure, Jubes. Get handed everything you've ever wanted in your entire mutant life only to give it back without even a steamy wonderful kiss to remember it by! God, I am maturing.

He looks at me...longer than he probably should considering how fast he's driving us. "If there's one thing I've learned in my long life, it's that you can't get back waisted time. And that life passes you by flamin' fast even when you don't age." His eyes are old and sad as he says this to me.

"And yet you were willing to wait for me?"

"Yes." I smile. Even though it's not what I would have wanted, it is a romantic gesture on his part if you think about it.

"Um...what if it kind of...went away while you were waiting? For either of us? What if I found a great guy at school and was happy?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Seven years and it never went away for you. Just over a year and it never went away for me. And you having a college boyfriend never really threatened me. I would have just waited til it was over."

"Y'know a lot of girls marry right out of college. That could be me under different circumstances." Yeah, right, but again, I wanted to see his response.

He gives me his Are You Serious? face. "You could never settle for some normal college kid. You're too good at what you do. You need someone who can keep up with you, not someone you can easily wipe the floor with."

I have to admit, looking at cute guys while knowing you could easily beat the shit out of them kind of changes your perspective when you're analyzing potential dates. Wolverine definitely doesn't fall into that category.

I sigh. "Know me that well, huh?"

He reaches for my hand again. "Always."

My heartbeat shoots up again in a very pleasing and unfamiliar way. If I'm actually going to start this with Wolverine, I guess I'm going to have to get used to the small stuff--i.e. handholding--or the major leagues are going to give me a heart attack.


	7. Chapter 7

Before I know it, we're pulling up to the mansion's garage and I am pleased to note that the majority of vehicles that found their way out this evening have still not returned. Logan and I are alone when it comes to anyone who might have noticed how our evening turned out. Including, thank you God, Bobby. Lex, I won't mind talking to, but I am dreading trying to keep her from squealing so loud as to alert everyone around us to the Girly Talk that we'll inevitably end up having. I foresee spending a lot of Lex's visit in the woods, because the girl uses volume unashamedly when discussing such things.

Logan and I head in through the garage door to the kitchen and I see him pull in a deep breath through his nose, sniffing out the mansion's current population.

"Ghost town," he explains.

Awkward silence descends again. God, hanging out with him was never difficult before. I hope that this does not become the hallmark of our...new relationship. Logan, to his credit, leans against the kitchen counter looking extremely relaxed compared to me. With his jeans, black t-shirt, and leather I'm-a-Badass-Biker jacket he looks like a poster boy, excuse me, man, for all things girls should never look for in a man when they're planning on bringing him home to Mom and Dad.

Inexplicably, the picture of me and Wolvie standing in front of a stone-faced Scott and a diamond-faced Emma pops into my head. "You see, Wolvie, here would like to take me on a...date. A date, date. To the movies. On his totally rad bike. Don't worry, I'll wear a helmet even though it totally messes up my hair and that's like the last thing ever I'd want on a **date**." Gawd.

Scott and **Emma** in the mom and dad slots. Yeah, if they do actually see fit to pass judgement on this at any point in the future I may just have to kill myself.

"Tired?" he asks. Almost suavely.

"Couldn't sleep right now if I tried." Cripes, maybe we should have gone back to the bar...oh, right, cops were called. Probably not the smartest move to return to the scene of a crime.

"How about a movie?"

AHA! See, this is why I'm so glad that Logan has all the experience I lack. Duh. Of **course**, watching a movie is a totally cool, relaxed, acceptable date activity. That involves no pressure. That we've done a million times before.

I smile my relief. "That sounds like a great idea, Wolvie."

I took the opportunity to introduce Logan to a different genre rather than his usual death and mayhem action genre by insisting on_ Role Models._ We curled up on the couch together and I was finally able to relax.

****

The next morning I dreaded going down to group breakfast. Lex was going to have a hard time containing herself and Bobby was going to give me significant looks and will have in all probability talked to other X-Men to see if they might have noticed anything out of odds with the resident feral and firecracker duo. I hesitated just in front of my closed bedroom door, torn.

I could always just...hide.

I had the feeling that I was about to walk out onto stage in front of millions of people. Super-villain people. Naked.

On the other hand, I was totally and completely excited to see Wolverine again. To see him smile in that very special, subtle, and scruffy way he's been smiling at me lately. That made my knees go week an my cheeks go hot and every other stupid, girly, lame-ass emotion that goes with the whole you-like-him and he-likes-you scenario. Weird, how when it was just me crushing on him I could totally maintain my cool, level-head when it came to dealing with him. Then he whips out that smile...and sigh...I am puddy in his adamantium-laced hands.

Well, I may be many things, but I am not a coward. I opened my bedroom door...stepped out into the hall...and got ambushed from a direction I was completely not expecting.

Strong, leather-clad, feminine hands grasp my upper arm and pull me backward--literally I'm forced to walks several feet backwards and trip. I would have fallen on my ass except that Rogue scoops my ass up before it hits carpet and into her room before I can even blink.

"Hey Rogue."

"Jubilation." Huh. She **never** uses my full name. To the extent that I was not sure that Rogue even **knew** my full name until just that instant. That with the fact that she's wearing her very serious, the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants is-about-to-attack-the-mansion face and I grow very worried very fast.

"Dude, what's up? Is something wrong?"

"I'm not entirely sure about that, sugah. That's what I'm hopin' to check...**is** everything alright? I mean with you?"

"Uhh..." I'm worried about walking downstairs and facing the other X-men because of what people may know. And **now** I'm feeling like those concerns are completely one-hundred percent valid.

"Yeah...I'm totally of the fine. Maybe even of the very fine." Or at least I will be just so long as everyone doesn't freak out about me and Logan...and the fact that we're moving along at a snail's pace. People can't freak out if nothing's barely changed, right? I mean give us a chance to actually move **up** a level or two.

She moves us to sit on her perfectly made bed. Which alerts me to which possible personality in her head might be particularly strong at this point. Sometimes Rogue's room is an utter disaster zone which can run parallel with how much of a disaster zone her brain is. But she can also become super OCD and tightly controlled--especially when she's working with a telepath--to get personalities and things in order. Rogue herself seems the same...but the environment around her changes drastically.

"You got drunk last night, sugah, went all cheek ta cheek with Logan, and then tried ta kiss him."

Wow, she didn't even **try** to skirt around this one. Just called it at point blank range. My face turns the same color as Cyke's glasses.

She puts a covered hand on my shoulder and her gorgeous green eyes are full of sisterly affection. "I'm not sayin' I'm utterly surprised or anything. Everyone knows how you felt about Wolverine growin' up..." I'm going to end up looking like the Human Torch before this conversation is even close to over. "But actin' on it now...you two left and never came back. And I'm not goin' to judge or offer unwanted advice...I'm just here to lend a helpin' hand."

Most people at the mansion have grown use to the fact that I don't open up easily. If something nasty goes down, they watch closely, and Hank asks as many questions as possible that fall under the category of he's the doctor and therefore responsible for everyone's physical health--and sometimes mental--but generally everyone save Logan maintains their distance. Thinking back on it, I've yelled at Logan more than anyone, but if I accidentally paff him in a fit of anger, he grows back.

"Rogue...if I said that Wolverine and I went off and had...a conversation...and that we reached an understanding...that resulted in us...exploring possibilities...what would your immediate reaction be..?"

Rogue shall be my trial run.

Clearly, she was not expecting this. She was expecting for Wolverine to have introduced me to reality by letting me down either gently or completely. And that I would be all full of disappointed teenaged angst.

"Ya mean...wait...what do ya mean?" Her emerald eyes are huge.

"We...are looking at a 'more-than-friends' scenario." Mega cringe.

Oh no.

Her face goes utterly blank and she slowly stands up from her immaculate bed and proceeds to slowly walk in a circle around her spacious room. Great, before things have even started, it looks like I'm going to have to defend what's going on. Why, oh why did Rogue have to witness the drunken events of last night??

She finally stops and looks at me.

"Okay...I must say that is somethin' I was not at all expectin' you to say."

"Yeah." I cringe even more.

"Well, gosh, Jubes...I guess you **are** doin' okay." She actually starts to smile a little. A very small smile. My cringe lessens.

"So, you're not freakin' out?"

"I'm still in what we'll call completely surprised."

"Friggin' tell me about it, Rogue! Do you have ANY idea how fast my jaw hit the floor when he didn't start giving me a speech that started with, 'Look, kid, I'll always think of you as a friend, but you know this can never happen, or I still see you as a kid, or you're like a little sis, or I understand you're feelings, but i can just never go there because of our history, or--"

"Jubilee. I think you might just be 'freakin' out' more 'n' anyone..."

Rogue pulls me out of my latest babblefest.

"God, I am, aren't I?" I sigh dramatically. Now that I have someone else to talk to about it I just can't shut up. In some ways, Rogue is more of what I'm looking for since she **knows** the whole story by simply being there. I can't accidentally or subconsciously lead her to be on my side simply because she's my friend or has only ever witnessed me and Logan together as adults.

"Rogue, I just...I spent last night laying awake for half of it wondering if it's really real. Part of me is worried that everyone's going to judge before anything's even happened and part of me is worried that I may just have imagined it all. And that harsh reality is going to come crashing down all around me. I'm having trouble believing that it all actually went down the way it did."

Rogue has a knowing, I'm older and wiser because I've been there before look. Not at all condescending. Just comforting.

"Remember when I lost my powers for a while? Before you were in college?"

"Yeah, you and Remy went and lived in California for a while...right?"

"Yeah." Her voice goes soft. "I woke up every mornin' in a slight panic because I had no gloves on and yet there he was in bed right next ta me. Takes a while to get used to your dreams comin' true."

"Rogue...you regained your powers again and you and Remy are...well...on an off period."

A shadow falls across her gorgeous face and her smile fades away like the memory of a good dream.

"We're X-men sugah. We take the good when we have it. And hold on for as long as we have it."

Silence descends on the both of us as those words sink in.

"Sorry, Jubes, that was kinda more depressin' than I meant it to be."

"S'right. It's also true."

My thoughts travel back down stairs as my tummy rumbles with enthusiasm.

"Well, I guess you can't get on ta believin' it actually happened unless you go on downstairs and face your day." She stands and puts her strong arm around my shoulders as we move towards the door. But I need to know more of what I may be facing before we head down.

"Oh! Hey, has Bobby been going around...y'know...talkin' about me and Wolvie?"

Rogue frowns her puzzlement.

"Not that I know of. Although...he got impressively sloshed last night...and he wasn't alone." Rogue raises her eyebrows at me with meaning and I remember who's company I last witnessed Bobby keeping.

"Ah...did, uh, they fall into bed together?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I wouldn't be surprised." Rogue's smile was huge.

I can't help but laugh. My day suddenly perks up a great deal and we make our way down to breakfast together.

****

Marvelously, breakfast was not at all focused on me. Except for Rogue, Wolvie and I managed to fly completely under the radar. Okay, almost completely.

"So..." Scott put his newspaper down next to his plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. The fearless leader-sanctioned breakfast. "The cops questioned a few different people in the club...said they were looking for a pretty, asian woman."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Cyke" Wolvie grins mischievously behind his coffee cup. "I'm a **gorgeous** young asian woman. Don't know nothin' about the cops wantin' to talk to this so-called pretty asian girl."

"Jubilee..." the fact that he was willing to address this in a relaxed scenario let me know that I wasn't truly in trouble.

I look up from my Honey Nut Cheerios that Paige wrinkled--and judgmentally, I might add--her nose over when I had added extra sugar to them.

"Look, they totally overreacted! I was a walking human sparkler, the paffs were so **small** they would barely register as anything else. Sparklers at a nightclub! Woooo!"

"I hear your point, Jubilee. That's why it wasn't pursued besides a few questions."

"I thought Ms. Frost is the reason it wasn't pursued," Paige pipes up over her veggie omelet.

Scott pauses over his coffee. "Yes. Well. It was easy for her to...convince them to sweep it under the rug. So to speak."

I roll my eyes. "Look, Scott, I'm really sorry it went down that way..."

"And?"

"And I'll try really, really hard to not lose it in a public place like that again."

I give him my wide-eyed innocent look.

He smiled and the subject was very quickly forgotten as my disheveled roommate entered wearing a shit-eating grin and Bobby's shirt. Bobby drudged in right behind her.

"Morning chaps!" She's utterly shameless. God, I love her.

Bobby seems to grimace at the bright sun, the collection of X-men wearing knowing grins while staring at him, and Lex's volume all at once. "Is there coffee?"

Considering it's my roommate, I take pity on him, jumping up from the table to quickly poor him a mug of black gold.

"Tried to keep up with her, huh?" I ask as he takes it from me.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Had a good time though?"

"Ask me when my head stops pounding."

I give him an affectionate pat on the back. "And if you actually remember it."

Lex took my seat next to Paige...and also started in on my super-sweetened Cheerios.

Paige is struggling between amusement and shock. "So...it's Lex, right?"

"Right." She smiles jovially at the blonde hayseed.

"I'm Paige Guthrie, nice to meet you."

"Ah! Yes, the former roommate, eh? Excellent." Part of me realizes that I should maybe pay attention to the two of them, but Logan catches my attention--there's that smile again, the one that thrills me and makes my fingers crackle with energy--and I follow him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"Hey." He keeps smiling and I grin like an idiot in return.

"Hey."

"So are you gonna be busy with Lex later tonight or are do you think she might be busy with Bobby?" His grin is positively wolfish--pun intended.

Lex would be busy with Magneto and my nerdy, super-skinny physics professor, Mr. Hoeflicker, at the same time if I asked her to.

"We'll probably go shopping today--"Anything to get her out of the mansion for this particular conversation--"but I bet I could be free later tonight, no problem." I'm surprised by how calm my voice sounds because it's butterflies galore in my tummy all over again.

He winks a dark blue eye at me. "I'll be around later then."


	8. Chapter 8

"'I'll be around later then?' What is that?" Paige is the one to ask the question. She has also whole-heartedly decided to cheer me on in my effort to date the Wolverine even though she only found out about it a few hours ago courtesy of Lex. See, I **knew** I should have paid closer attention. But, hey, Paige **did** date Warren, a first generation X-man, for about five minutes, so I guess that helps make this not so weird for her. And Bobby hadn't been too surprised earlier when he was giving me a hard time even though he didn't know anything. And Rogue has **also** decided to take up residence in the Wolvie and Jube camp while tagging along for this females-only outing.

"It means he'll just be ever so casually around so that Jubilee can get to him when she's ready and not before. You know, relaxed and no pressure and without any pomp and circumstance." Lex gestured with her hands to emphasize the "pomp" part.

Rogue frowns at my roomie while smoothing her hand back through her skunk tail. "I don't really think Wolvie is one to ever consider pomp and circumstance so to speak."

Paige agrees. And doesn't notice that being around Rogue brings out her accent. "I think he's more of the let's go out onna motorcycle and throw back a couple...which would probably be better if you were old enough ta drink, Jubes."

I glare and my newly turned twenty-one friend.

"Oh, bollocks. We can totally get passed that. "

"Honestly, I think last night showed that he's more'n comfortable takin' our gal out for a few drinks." Rogue grins like a cheshire. "And he's a wonderful dancer." The Southern belle **would** fixate on that part. "You should get him ta take ya out dancin' again, Jubes."

Paige lights up. "Oooh! That's a great idea! We can find a great outfit for you, and you'll look beautiful, and, hey Rogue--let's go see what's in Express for something Jubes can wear...I think they're havin' a sale."

The two X-women take the lead with Paige's urging.

Apparently, I was not needed for this conversation, even though I knew the man better than anyone. And **Paige** dressing me? **Please.** I love the girl, really I do, and her wardrobe is very cute, but it is just **so** not me. I let them go forward, not feeling like getting my shopping on for once in my life. Having Paige and Rogue know is reassuring, but I should make it clear that it goes no further than them. I doubt Wolvie is too keen on going around to one of the X-guys about the fact that he has a brand-new-sort-of-girlfriend. The thought of becoming one of those cliche girls who talk over every detail so as to dissect what a guy says and does down to the last vowel doesn't appeal to me either even if do I enjoy an episode of _Sex and the City_ every now and again.

Especially since Paige and Rogue aren't fully aware of the entire situation.

Lex hangs back with me and her yellow eyes glow with her power as she looks at me.

"Taking it slow with no pressure, eh?"

I chew at my bottom lip, wishing I hadn't run out of gum.

"He's been interested in me for a while now and I had **no** idea. He was just...y'know, waiting til the timing was right, I guess."

"Finding out changed things for him?"

"Sort of. Maybe. I think he kept waiting for me to get a college boyfriend and be young and..."

"Normal for a spell?"

"Yeah. Relationships between X-men have **ten** **times** the grief normal ones do. Rogue and Remy for instance. They are totally meant for each other, but it's hard to...keep it going in the face of all we end up dealing with, I guess." My shoulders sag. "God, I should tell you about Wolvie's track record sometime," I say, thinking about all the times he's loved and lost only to love and then lose again.

Lex moves onto another serious subject, however.

"I got you in for next week. Wednesday. Only if it's alright with you, of course."

"I have been putting it off for a while, huh?"

"Can't use finals as an excuse anymore, luv."

"I know, I do. And I promised Logan."

"And I think the man has a keen interest on knowing you're going."

"To say nothing of the safety of all those assholes back at Empire I could y'know, accidentally fry over easy. While they're alive."

"Also true."

"Lex...I don't really know how to thank you..." My head ducks down, and my voice is just above a whisper.

Her arm shoots out and fiercely hugs my shoulder. "Oh, don't you bloody dare. You don't have to thank me for a second."

Relief floods me at her words. Lex has **truly** been a wonderful friend. I'm so grateful the rooming fates put the two of us together.

At this point, Paige realizes that we've gotten left behind, and rushes back to rectify the situation because, there is, indeed a sale at Express. I suddenly feel the need to kick my butt into gear and buy an inordinate amount because that is **so** much better than dwelling on the past relationships of the X-men and how mine already has more baggage than necessary before it's even gotten started.

****

"Need a hand with that, darlin'?"

I am carrying more bags than years I have lived.

"Dude. That would be awesome." The small handholds on the numerous bags are cutting painfully into my hands and I seriously doubt my ability to get up the stairs all by myself.

Logan grabs the majority, ever the gentleman, and follows me upstairs to my room.

"Looks like you had a lotta fun."

"Correction. Looks like I maybe had a freak out while in a shopping mall." I glare at the bags accusingly. Gawd, it's like they took on a life of their own and decided to multiply like bunnies. Why did there have to be so many distracting sales? Easier to shop than worry about how my life has gotten so complicated. Even if the complication is totally built and totally hot and totally standing right next to me in my room. Holding at least eight pink and white striped Victoria's Secret bags. Logan is holding my lingerie.

"Just set em down anywhere, Wolvie."

He opts for the bed.

"Freak out about what?"

I close my eyes as my hands find their way to my hips. If I just tell him now, then maybe we can put it behind us for the rest of the evening.

"Lex set it up for me. A meeting. A...therapy meeting. Next Wednesday."

Logan's expression becomes strained and concerned and serious all at the same time. And I think that I maybe love him.

"You okay with goin?"

I shake my head at the bed full of bags. "As okay as I'll ever end up being."

I suddenly realize that I must be talking to Logan the boyfriend instead of Logan the friend. I can tell by the look on his face and I can tell by the way he moves toward me--slowly-- and then wraps his arms around me in such a convincing way that my only recourse is to lean into him. One hand stroking my hair, one hand rubbing my lower back. We've always hugged, but this whole prolonged holding thing he has going on is delightfully new.

Well, I might as well bite the other bullet too.

"Rogue saw what happened last night so I told her the rest. Paige knows too."

"I figured by the looks they've been givin' me all day."

"I told them not to tell anyone else."

"It's not like we're tryin' to hide anything, Jubilation."

His powerful hands have gone from rubbing to a firm massage and I realize how tensed I've become by the number of knots he finds.

"Mmm...I know, Logan, it's just I thought it's be nice if we got to figure stuff out before everyone knows. Do you really think everyone's just going to treat us like any other couple?"

The man has the hands of a god. And he smells wonderful. Totally masculine sans cologne.

"No. But I don't think it'll be quite as bad you might expect."

"That's true enough considerin' Rogue and Paige. And Bobby."

His massage halts. "You had a girl talk with Bobby?" I can't see it, snuggled into his neck like I am, but the look on his face right now must be priceless. "Oh, Lex, huh?"

I smile. "Nah, he's been giving me a hard time since he saw us come out of your room the other morning."

"Yeah, he's been givin' me looks too."

I pick my head up off his shoulder, and to this day I **can't** for the life of me remember what I could possibly want to tell him because all thoughts fly out of my brain at light speed as we're suddenly face to face while being less than two inches apart. He closes that infinitely small space between us and I see fireworks behind my closed lids as he kisses me.

It's warm and wonderful and soft and stubble-rough and I suddenly feel like I'm on drugs. I feel my legs start to give out, but he's incredibly strong and his arms are wrapped tight around me so thank God, I don't go anywhere except to lean into him even more as he deepens the kiss and my hands find their way into his wild hair and hold on for all they're worth.

I can officially die happy now. Really.

He breaks the kiss gently while breathing hard and I'm shocked that I have not literally melted into my floor.

"So..." Another deep breath. "What would you like to do tonight, Jubilee?"

His arms are still around me. His lips are still close to mine. My hands still have a death grip on his hair.

"Jubes?"

"Um...I was fine...with the current activity."

He smiles and gently pulls away from me. "Takin' it slow, remember?"

Screw slow, I've been taking it slow my **whole** life. Ugh, but he's right. He takes a step back, separating our bodies, but is courteous enough to not let go of me entirely because he must be able to see how shaky I am.

"Not sure." I think back to last night. "You're the expert, remember?"

"Expert at what?"

"Y'know...dating. And dating stuff."

"Oh, christ, darlin' if we're depending on that, we're both screwed." He smiles while he says this and suddenly I find myself suppressing an insane fit of the giggles.

"Why, Wolvie, how did your last date go?"

"Honestly?"

"Uh-huh." I nod in emphasis. "Honestly."

"Cyke said I could go on if I wanna. Or I could get my ass on the blackbird because a few kids are bein' held hostage. And that you were the first to insist on goin'. Never called her, can't even remember her name or what she looked like, but I'm pretty sure I left her stranded at the restaurant we were supposed to meet at."

My mood sobers and softens simultaneously. "That was the last time you had a date?"

"That was the last time I **almost** had a date," he corrects.

"Wow," I say barely above a whisper.

He glances at the floor all hesitant, then looks up at me again with a grave, centuries-old expression that truly shows the weight of years he's endured. With the barest hint of embarrassment, he twitches his mouth slightly.

"That was the last time I almost had an honest-to-God date, Jubilation. Not the last time I met up with a woman."

Ahah. My face holds a smile it doesn't really feel. "Well, I guess I know how serious this is by how you just out and tell me things, huh?"

His eyes turn down right analytical--almost predatory.

"That a bad practice for me to uphold with ya?"

It might have been prudent for me at this juncture to actually take a moment and think through this concept and try to visualize what this may someday mean to me. But I grew up with a zero bullshit stance and Wolverine had been the prominent embodiment to this school of thought. I barely take half a second to reach a response. And then proceed with a somewhat daring action.

I dart forward and plant a quick but purposeful kiss on his scruffy mouth.

"Of course you should Logan. It wouldn't be you an' me if ya didn't."

With all the bullshit occurring around us we never spouted it at each other. Sometimes we didn't say hardly anything at all, but many times nothing needed to be said. I will talk my pretty little head of with anyone, to anyone, at anyone, and God, is it such a relief to come to Logan and not have to worry about saying word one, much less five, ten, or hundred, to feel like I'm maybe not getting dismissed.

He took my hand and then took me out to the movies and then out to McDonald's. It was the simplest most wonderful evening ever.


	9. Chapter 9

Short update, I know. Hope you all like it anyway:) More's to come for sure, but the next two weeks are going to be busy for me, so please hang in there. Thanks for all the reviews thus far.

_________________________

He found me on the roof.

The evening was one of those utterly wonderful summer nights with no moon and a million stars and this delicious sort of lull had stolen across the mansion enveloping the grounds in what I like to call perfection. It's times like these I seem to realize how times like these are so very rare.

Logan had to have known I'd been home for hours by the time he crept out onto the roof a silent, black figure against the darkness. I wonder if he was giving me time. Or if he was maybe even giving himself time before finding out my general emotional state of being. Maybe the time was for the both of us.

"Hey."

"Hey." He looked down onto the ground, with a penetrating scowl and I wondered just how much more his eyesight picked up in comparison to mine.

"How bad was it?"

"Awful," I say succinctly. "And not too awful. Certainly not my favorite thing in the world."

He nods. We're quiet for a short while and I start to shiver ever so slightly because even though it's summer it's still the north and Logan takes it as an invitation to come closer, to put his arm around my shoulder, to pull me against him, and bury his nose in my hair.

"Do I smell good?"

"You always smell good."

"You're a sweet and terrible liar."

"My ass I am. I'm a great liar." He shifts around while pulling me even closer so that his legs fall to either side of mine, straddling me, and his arms maintain the circle enveloping me.

"Lex had her go at the Danger Room today," he comments.

"Today? Really? I thought she was goin' to wait."

"She was antsy. I think she wanted the distraction."

"Ah." Wolverine was doing a fabulous impression of a space-heater; I had stopped shivering entirely.

"Kinda pissed me off since I was already in there working on a distraction for myself."

"Poor, Wolvie."

"I'm a big boy. I got over it." I laugh a little, knowing he was going for that.

"How'd she do?"

I feel his stubble shift against my cheek, thinking he must be smiling.

"She got her ass handed to her."

I smirk. "Ouch. That bad, huh?"

"Well...not entirely. She held her own just fine for a while, but compared to standard X-men level, yeah, she got her ass handed to her."

"How'd she take that?"

"Very gracefully. Bobby was there to tend to her bruises."

I snicker. "Poor Lex."

"Hank suggested she take up some training while she was here. Suggested I maybe step in and help her out because I get maximum results in minimum time. She turned really pale at this and practically begged Bobby to go a couple rounds later this week figuring he'd go easier on her. You been tellin' her horror stories about me, darlin'?"

"Only the worst sort."

"Good girl."

Silence descends for a breath before I break it.

"Nobody asked where I was or anything?"

"Nah...although, Lex and I coulda been a little more subtle about it. I think people were a little weirded out by how pissy we both were."

A comfortable quietude fell and I absentmindedly created colorful plasma globules, letting them float around us gently like tiny moons. I goaded them to form together into a multi-colored sphere and raised the glowing orb up high until it looked like a Jubilee-made moon against the starscape.

"How're you doin' with all this, Wolvie?"

"Huh?"

"Y'know...bein' all upset and worried today." I turn to face him wanting to see his expression in the darkness. I bring my little moon down letting the glow illuminate his rough features.

"You're not really worryin' about me in all this are ya?"

I shrug and my movement is halted by his arms around me.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Is that weird?"

He looks slightly surprised and pleased at the same time and provides no verbal answer as he leans in to kiss me lightly. Lightly it may have been, but Logan's move was more than enough to make me lose control.

My little moon exploded in an array of brilliant color that dazzled the entire sky and had the entire mansion in an uproar and coming to see who or what dared to attack me while on our very own property and hanging out with Wolverine no less.

When Lex, Paige, and Rogue got the real story, I thought they'd never stop laughing.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks so much for all the reviews. Technically I should have been doing other work, but when you have to write you have to write...:)

_______

It started about a week after that. The comments, I mean.

Remy was the first.

"There's that smile again, chere. What you been smilin' about so much?" He sauntered on up to me with his own flirtatious grin and tugs on my ponytail playfully.

"What do ya mean, Gumbo? Can't a girl just be happy?"

He falls into step beside me all tragic figure with his fluttering trench coat and ruby red eyes and I begin to think that he has more on his mind than just a simple question about my facial expressions.

"Course a girl never seems to be around here," he grumps.

Oh no. Gloomy Remy. Down and depressed and glowering Remy. Rogue went out with some of the girls again. Which she had been doing a lot lately.

"Aw, c'mon studly." I place a friendly hand on his back. "It can't be that bad, huh?"

He looks at me in earnest and halts his forward momentum. "Mon Dieu, petite. Whatever you're so happy about must be serious, no?"

I grimace. "What, one lameass comment about your heartache and suddenly I'm one of those brainless happy people who doesn't know how to communicate to the depressed?"

He just looks at me.

"Well, dammit. This sucks."

"Oh, non, chere. You've never seemed this happy. Don't you go feelin' bad over moi." He starts to walk off, but I just can't seem to let him go at that. Remy always had a way of making me smile whenever my heart was aching over whatever crush I might have been nursing at the time. Nine times out of ten it had probably been Logan.

"She still loves you, Rem."

A shadow of a smile crosses his incredibly kissable mouth. "Oui. Now if that was all there was to it, non?"

Apparently I really suck at returning the favor.

****

"Jubilation?"

"Hank?"

"Have you perhaps developed latent telepathy after all these years?"

"God, I hope not! What the hell makes you ask?" I grab a twinkie from the cabinet and hand him one, which he accepts with a feline smile.

"I have recently observed that you seem to be positively beaming and smiling to yourself on a regular basis. Many times telepaths tend to show facial expressions at inappropriate times that fall in with the telepathic conversation in which they happen to be participating."

"Um...was I smiling at an inappropriate time?" I frown in puzzlement because Beast has the strangest look on his furry face.

"Emma was discussing torture tactics and how to withstand them with some of the younger team members and you had a dreamy expression for the duration."

"Torture tactics?"

"Indeed."

I wince. "Yikes."

He bit into his cream-filled pastry that, rumor has it, is the result of a chemical reaction rather than traditional baking. Mutant snacks for the both of us, I guess.

"Indeed," he says with a full mouth.

****

"Morning Scott!"

"Um...morning, Jubilee..."

"How's it hangin' there ole fearless leader?"

"Last time I checked, it was hanging quite well. Morning, Jubilation."

I watched Frosty gracefully sit down next to Cyclops and daintily sip from her white ceramic mug totally at odds with the comment she has just made. Maybe she didn't realize the double entendre thing she had going on. I decided to comment.

"Wow. Two words. Eeew! And **Eeew**!"

"Then don't present me with such an opportunity to make Scott blush."

I glance at Cyke. He's very slightly pink which for him is rudolph red.

"Okay, so there's an insight to you're relationship I did **NOT** need, especially this early in the morning."

"Especially since you seemed in such a bright mood this morning, Jubilee." Scott smiles somewhat tightly. "You're never like this so early." His grin widens. "How about joining the Danger Room session?"

I couldn't leave the room fast enough.

****

"Everyone's on to me. Has my poker face really become so abysmal?" After grinning ridiculously at the mansion's entire population, I am now scowling at my guy. I thought I had better game than that. Apparently, I was wrong.

We're in his room sitting on his bed. I'm concentrating very, very hard on the conversation because talking is no longer my favorite occupation. Do me a favor, and try not to die of shock. My new favorite activity in the world does indeed have to do with my mouth but it is not something I can participate in by myself.

"What?" Whoops, I did that thing again where I fixate on his mouth and totally don't hear the words that are coming out of said wonderful, dream-mouth.

"Nah, you're poker face is fine...it's just that you're not concentrating at all hours of the day."

"Concentrating on what?" I'm really not keeping up with this conversation. I begin to wonder what Logan's reaction would be to me just crawling on top of him and occupying his mouth with my new favorite activity. I don't remember Wolverine talking this much in the past. What on earth has gotten into him, anyway?

"Jubes?" Whoops, pretty sure I missed something again.

"Huh?"

"Fer Christsakes darlin', you're not payin' attention to a thing I'm sayin'," his eyes turn devilish. "Used ta be, that was my job."

Back to the scowling. "Oh, har, har. You're freakin' hilarious."

"I have been known to crack a joke on the very rare occasion."

"You mean the very **odd** occasion."

I decide to be daring and brazen it through as I move towards him. The key, I quickly decide, is to try and keep it somewhat innocent and keep my weight up on hands and knees rather than just melt into him like in the daydream that just took place five seconds ago, and lean in for a kiss.

As much as I've become obsessed with the whole kissing Wolverine scenario, it's still not as regular an activity as I'd like it to be. Usually, I wait for him to make the move because once we're kissing, he always stops me way, **way** before I'm close to being done and it's kind of made me nervous to go for what I really want. But, hey, when **I **can't even keep up with the talking, then I seriously have to figure, what the hell?

Wow, turned out my move was sheer brilliance.

After several minutes, Logan solves the problem of me supporting my own wait by bringing me flush against him and I quickly discover that my new favorite activity does not simply just involve his mouth but his **tongue** as well. Not like this is a brand new experience or anything, it's just, well, **damn** no guy ever used it in quite **that** way.

I can't help the groan that escapes my lips as Logan pulls away from me. Again.

"Jubilation..."

I pout openly. "Yeah?"

"We should..." clears his throat. "Stop..."

Before he knows, what I'm planning, I straddle his chest which make his eyes eyes bulge nicely with surprise. And maybe a slightly trapped look. I cross my arms while looking down at him.

"Why?" My eyes narrow.

"Y'know. Takin' it slow."

"We're making out. I'm not exactly ripping your clothes of here." Honestly, I'm starting to feel a little unwanted.

"I just don't want to...accidentally make a move you're not ready for." He really looks off his guard, which for Wolvie is unheard of. God, it's cute.

I lean down towards him slowly in what I hope is at least a somewhat sexy move, until my lips are oh-so-barely touching his ear. "Trust me, when I say, you're in the clear."

"You're sure?" his voice is strained.

I raise up to look at him. And put my mouth in close proximity again while smiling slightly. "How about trusting me to set the boundaries every once in while?"

His blue eyes darken to something akin to a night time hue and his expression is completely serious as he moves my hair back from my face for a clear view. "Okay, Jubilee, you're the boss."

I gasp and dig my nails into his flannel shirt as his mouth fastens onto my neck in a totally agreeable bite and we proceed to make up for what I considered was lost time.


	11. Chapter 11

I should really talk Logan into vacating his room and relocating. Even though he's been in it for forever so that it really feels like his space, with the Asian decor and the occasional claw mark on the wall, and even though it faces east so that the morning sun finds it's way in easily and his window has some of the best roof access. Despite **all** of these lovely features that he loves, I should really talk Logan into moving his room further down the hall.

We finally come up for air an entire hour later and I am extremely pleased with myself to say nothing of how ecstatic I am with this wonderful boyfriend of mine letting me have my way. Really, he can be such a **giving **person. A fiercely intense and mind-blowing giving person. And honest to God, we haven't even moved passed first base. Maybe slightly brushed onto second. I debate on just how happy this makes me versus just how happy going further will eventually make me.

This is my introspective contemplation as we are once again coming out of his room and I realize my next move should be talking Logan into moving his room down the hall, because, goddammit if we don't run into Bobby **again. **The Iceman has the worst timing in the world. Or, evidently, we do.

Seriously, though, there's just no trying to pretend we were doing anything other than getting lost in the throes of a passionate make-out session. Although, considering this is Bobby, I'm sure his mind goes several steps passed the reality and right on into afternoon sex. Which was **his** choice of activity because Lex is right behind him.

Three of us look at least somewhat guilty.

Lex looks like she is going to positively explode with excitement and is focusing on my neck.

Shock is prominent on Bobby's face at he stares at us and then victoriously and emphatically points both fingers at us. "I KNEW IT! I-FREAKING-KNEW-IT!" He turns to Lex. "See, I TOLD you there was something going on!"

She's still grinning at me.

"Of bloody course, there was something going on, you dolt."

Bobby's face falls as he realizes that Lex is not at all surprised to catch the two of us red-handed and decides to blame me.

"Hey, Jubes, I'm cool! I can be trusted! You know I have no problem with you guys!"

"You also can't keep you're flamin' voice down," Wolverine accuses.

Bobby has indeed, been practically yelling at us this entire time and has the courtesy to look embarrassed when Wolverine brings his volume to attention.

"Yeah, well, if you had just out and told me, I wouldn't be surprised and using my surprised voice right now, would I?"

"Y'know, he has a point."

I glare at Lex. "Who's side are you on anyhow?"

Wolverine sounds just exasperated. "There're sides now?"

Bobby employs puppy-dog eyes. "Really, Jubes, I'm kind of hurt, and holy crap, that is the **biggest** hickey I've ever seen, and **man**, have I seen Hoover marks in my day! We're you trying to **feed** off her, Wolverine?"

My hand flies up to my neck as Lex starts laughing. "Aw, shit! It's summer! This is **so** not turtleneck weather!"

Lex is bent over and leaning against Bobby she's laughing so hard and the Iceman looks like he's examining Wolverine for vampire fangs. Although, he **is** the Wolverine and so his canines have always been rather pronounced.

I scowl at my guy again who is unreservedly unapologetic.

"You're the one who didn't want to stop." His tone of voice **alone** is enough to make me want to forgive him instantly and take him back into the bedroom just to **show** him how much I forgive him. Although, it is entirely unfair that any hickey he might receive on my behalf will only heal instantly.

"Don't worry, luv, I have a cute light weight scarf you can wear. It's even light yellow."

"Really? You have a yellow scarf? That's not really you, Lex."

"I saw it and thought of you, roomie. I was going to give it to you before I left anyhow!" I smile hugely at the thoughtful redhead and we head toward her guest room.

"Think of it this way, Jubes, you can come up with a whole new outfit. Cute black shirt, maybe white, those dark denim jeans you bought on sale last week. Covering up the evidence of your harlot ways can be loads of fun." She tosses back a wink with glowing yellow eyes at Logan with that last line.

I glance back at the guys who both look a little surprised at how abruptly we're making our departure.

"I'll see ya later, Wolvie!"


	12. Chapter 12

Lex left the next week with promises to come once more in August before the semester started up again. That was clearly more for Bobby than it was for me, considering when the semester started, we'd be **living** together. The fact that she was planning on that at all was really a fantastic sign for their burgeoning relationship and I honestly couldn't be happier for the both of them.

Realistic about it's longevity, but very, very happy.

Honestly, in many ways, that summer shocked me to the core. I mean this kind of thing just doesn't happen to us normally. Not for **whole** seasons at least. Allow me to expand on that.

When things go well for X-Men, in their personal life, it's practically a scientific fact that other aspects are going to get fucked up so badly that they then eventually affect your personal life to the point that it falls apart utterly. See how much **fun** it is to be a superhero? And some of the younger students wondered why the hell I worked so hard to go off to college instead of hang around and do online courses.

First of all, I've been a part of this bang up operation since I was thirteen and therefore I am not a complete idiot to it's realities.

Secondly, a girl's gotta grab a chunk of normalcy where and when she can.

Therapy continued on for me, which is all I really want to say about that. I suppose I'm making progress just fine, but I'm gauging that more on how I feel when I'm with Logan than anything else.

Surprisingly, hanging out with Logan for the whole summer was supremely normal. I **marveled** at how natural it felt, at how content we both made each other, at how easy-going and relaxed he seemed about our relationship. I wondered at my own ability feel an **elation** I've never experienced and finally allowed myself to own up to the fact that this must, indeed, be love.

God, help me.

I asked Logan if it scared him. If he was maybe waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the shit to hit the fan in a spectacularly explosive way that would leave our lives **destroyed** in the aftermath. Okay, maybe, I didn't put it in such **dramatic** terms, but I still regretted asking because I recognized the look on his face all too soon. It was the look he wore when exactly that happened to him before. To all of us. And, **man** had I been there for some remarkably **hideous **days when it comes to my man's life.

His answer was less than reassuring when he succinctly told me, "Yeah, darlin' it scares the hell outta me sometimes."

But, we continued on anyway, because, really, what other choice do you have? And no amount of waiting for the inevitable was going to make me give him up. I **totally** admit that I just was in no way strong enough. He is worth every second.

That's about the time I found out just what Rogue and Remy's problem was. She was, quite simply, running scared.

****

"So, wait, **what**?!"

"I know. I'm just down right stupid, huh, Jubes?"

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that **per se**, but...."

We were dishing over frozen yogurt concoctions. Remy was practically living on the roof; I should know, I ran into him three times in the last week. Rogue was spending record-breaking amounts of time away from the mansion and this occasion was no different since we found ourselves once again at the mall.

Not so dangerous as the last time (and any **other** time in the history of my existence) considering my new favorite obsession involved working towards taking clothes **off** instead of buying **new** ones. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten far all summer in this particular quest, but, God, was it fun to try. I do, however, have a brand new collection of trendy light-weight summer scarves. What can I say, that man likes to leave his mark. Bobby giggles every time he sees me in one.

Ass.

But I digress. Astonishing, I know.

"So, lemme get this straight. You **love** him. You are completely and utterly and totally convinced that he is the **only** mutant for you in the **whole** wide world...but, that just isn't good enough?! Rogue, if **that's** not good enough, pretty, pretty please tell me what is, because I am clueless right now. I am apparently going about my life in the completely wrong way and should break up with Wolvie and set up permanent camp on the roof with Gumbo."

She smiles a pathetic smile at me and I resist the urge to slap her across her pretty face. I love her, I do, but what the fuck?

"Okay, let me put it this way, Jubilee. You're still young; you don't quite see it the way I do yet. When I look at Remy, I...see everythin'. I mean **everythin'.** White weddin' dresses, an' cute lil' Southern chapels, an' **kids, **an' wrinkles, an' big porches to sit on while lil red-eyed grandkids play all around us and drink lemonade. Every stupid, white-picket fence bullshit image that has **ever** existed. And I **want **it. I want him and I want it all. But it's all just a dream. An inaccessible dream."

My spoonful of gummi-bear-chocolate-chip yogurt stays suspended right before it's end destination of my mouth and dribbles onto my shorts as I stare at my friend.

"Well, I do declare. I have rendered one Jubilation Lee speechless."

"I--" The rest of the yogurt dribbles off and I reach for napkins to wipe up my lap. "It's just that--"

"Yes, Jubilee?" Her eyes are faux innocent with a hint of sadness.

"Well, I..."

"I know it doesn't look like it, but we **are** still together, Jubes. It's just that...it's been kinda hard to be around him as much lately."

I proceed to say the **lamest** thing ever. "It's not like it's completely impossible...to have all that..."

She knows I don't even **sort** **of** believe the words as they come out of my mouth and so doesn't bother to argue the point.

I've suddenly lost my appetite and leave my yogurt half uneaten.

"So, what, we just don't even try then, Rogue?" I feel like all my dreams are melting with my yogurt.

"Course not, Jubes. We **always** keep tryin', keep goin' forward. I'm just...haven' a crisis of faith so to speak."

"But, you two **are** still together." Their relationship suddenly seems monumentally important to me.

"Yes."

"You are not broken up."

"No. Where do you think I've been spendin' most of my nights?" At last a genuine smile.

"This is just...a sort of down period," I clarify.

"Yeah...and I'll work my way out of it eventually."

We toss our unfinished treats and make our way home and I proceed to go hunt down the Wolverine and make the most of the rest of our day.

****

I've delighted in making a mess of Logan's well-made bed, letting the sheets tangle around us and our thoroughly rumpled clothing as I snuggle into his chest as much as possible and take the opportunity to snake my hand up said chest and under his shirt.

"Whew..."

I grin hugely and pretend to not notice how certain lower areas are...reacting.

"Yeah?" I ask, somewhat breathlessly, and then steal one of his favorite moves and bite down on his neck possessively.

He groans the ultimate groan of need and I am delighted even more.

"What's gotten into you today, sweetheart?"

"Just feeling the need to seize the moment...y'know carpe diem, live for today..." I snuggle back into his neck and let my free arm travel south toward his belt buckle and feel his entire body tense up. "Smell the roses...take the unbeaten path..." He growls and clasps my naughty hand in his powerful one.

I'd be disappointed except for the fact that he decided to flip the tables, or, rather, **me** over and I suddenly find his weight crushing me into his mattress as his mouth descends onto mine again, hard. Belt buckle's totally out of reach, but I don't even care anymore.

Sharp teeth scrape me ear. "And the need to seize for today happened because...?"

Logan's been super tuned into my needs, my wants, my thoughts, and the reasons behind it all since we started our relationship. If he doesn't know what's going on, he asks. Sometimes, I admit, I make fun of his unmanly communication skills, but most of the time I appreciate the hell out of it, knowing he's doing if for me, knowing he does it because he cares.

I resist the urge to scrape nails up his back, and under his shirt, knowing I'll see a hint of his feralness if do, and work on focusing on his words.

Our bodies fit together near perfect and I'm able to look straight into his intense eyes which can be a thrill in and of itself.

"I was just...talkin' to Rogue earlier. About relationships...and stuff. It got me thinking..."

"Thinking...?" he prods.

Oh, my God, his hand is just below my breast, right up against the underwire, in fact. I can't help but wriggle.

"Thinking that...you're worth it all. That this is worth it all. Even...if I can never have it all."

He kissed me again and I swear to God, it was more tender and more extreme than it had ever been before. I'd rather die than stop.

Ostensibly, he's decided that the talking portion of this evening's activities were over. God, I love my life.

I lose myself in the feel of his weight on top of me, in the feel of his scruff against my face, his lips on my mouth, hot and wonderful. I let all the recent worries, and fears, and doubts just fade away, let Rogue's worries about potential futures fade into the background, let my own forebodings drift out of my head as I let my world shrink down to just me, Logan, and the bed. Wolverine promotes this as he takes a turn at moving his hand down my abdomen then back up--under my shirt, his hand practically burning my skin, his thumb moving over the lace of my bra in a way that makes my stomach tighten and my body spasm.

That's when Cyclops burst violently into the room.


	13. Chapter 13

It's actually not what you might think.

Cyclops looked just as surprised to find us in our specific and sweaty predicament as we were surprised to have him suddenly burst into the room. His eyes are probably bulging behind his glasses because he's doing an excellent rendition of a hooked bass gasping for water. My already flushed face turns even redder and I want to **die** of mortification. I'm split down the middle with feeling like I'm an errant child who got caught doing what she shouldn't and my normal strong-willed, outspoken, adult self who wants to yell spectacularly at the authority figure and tell him to mind his own goddamned business. Scott has that affect on me.

Logan looks downright murderous as he growls out "What the fuck, Summers?" He lifts himself up off of me and into a classic I'm-pissed-as-hell-and-someone's-about-to-get-a-throat-full-of-adamantium-over-it stance in front of the bed. I hastily pull my shirt down and wonder if I should intervene on Scott's behalf because I honestly think that after Magneto, the Brotherhood, Apocalypse, and, well, **every single other X-Villain **out there he's finally going to meet his maker courtesy of Wolverine. I suppose if someone actually stopped to think about it, they'd find a certain irony in the concept that Wolverine actually killed Cyclops over lil' ole **me** after the whole unrequited saga of the Scott/Jean/Logan days.

Scott puts his hands up in a placating gesture, because he seemingly had no desire to have them stay attached to his body. And then, with one single sentence from Scott, my whole world implodes.

"Lex called Bobby. She's in trouble, we're moving out now."

I fly off the bed and toward the door, leaving the men no choice but to follow me.

"Where did she call from?! What's going on?! How long ago did she call?!" I'm rushing down towards the lower levels as I'm shouting my questions back at them, not bothering to stop to get the full story. I careen into Bobby near the stair case and if he hadn't of employed his ice slide I would have taken him out and we both would have tumbled down the staircase in a heap.

Iceman takes me along on an ice slide straight to the sub-basement elevator while Wolverine and Cyclops skip the ice-covered stairs entirely, vaulting themselves over the balcony, in accord with each other, and hot on our heels.

In the elevator, Bobby starts talking a mile a minute, desperate for me to fill in the pieces. "I think she was on campus, but I can't be sure, I don't really know what she was doing, but there was an explosion in the background, and the phone went dead, and she mentioned your name, I think she tried to call you earlier, but you didn't answer--I was going in the City tomorrow to see her--and what's going on at the Campus in the middle of summer? She's not taking any summer classes is she?"

At this point, the elevator reaches the sub-basement and the door slides open to reveal Rogue, Gambit, Beast, and Emma all in uniform, all waiting for us.

I charged toward the locker room where my uniform is waiting for me , wishing I could instantaneously develop the powers of super speed. I've never felt so sluggish in my entire life.

"We'll start at the campus and have Emma scan for her and then--"Scott's saying as an idea pops into my head like one of my fireworks.

I skid to a halt. "WAIT! What day is it?!"

"Um, Friday!" Scott supplies, thanks to his ability to plan out every day of every week with simulations and what not.

"There's a mutant meeting hosted on campus on Fridays. Lex and I never even thought of going, but she mentioned last week...that she might try it..."

Of course. A meeting of a mutants on a college campus in New York City practically had a bulls-eye on it. Honestly, considering it's New York it could be an alien invasion, or a monster from a different reality that inexplicably popped into being right next to the Baxter Building, but put forth a venue where mutants could gather in what they thought of as a safe environment and discuss the social and political realities of their situation and what the future holds and all other probabilities get tossed out the window because **that** is a sure fire recipe for disaster.

The look of dawning horror on Bobby's face and grim realization on the other assembled X-Men makes my stomach plummet with dread and hikes my adrenaline up even more. Horrid thoughts crowd into my brain as I throw off civilian clothes and zip up my very own uniform that Lex herself brought to the mansion for me. She had her cell that she used when the attack happened. The background explosion could have disrupted the signal, dropping the call, debris could have knocked it out of her hand, or the explosion itself could have obliterated my friend. No amount of solar-powered energy beams can make you invulnerable to **that**.

God, I wanna puke.

Scott, bless him, already has the engines to the Blackbird fired up as I run cross the hanger bay. Wolverine's there to grab my hand in an effort to pull me the rest of the way on the plane, his blue and yellow mask covering what I can tell is the stony expression on his face. Silence fills the jet as the powerful engines thrum to the extent that I can feel it in my bones and I meditate on the vibrations and will every other mind-numbingly terrified thought out of me head.

At a loss, I glance at Logan sitting across from me and reach out my hand to him. He grips it painfully and there's absolutely no comfort, no reassurance in his dark blue eyes. He's not one for false platitudes and my bones creaking under under his adamantium ones are a testament to the fact that the only certainty I can depend on in my entire life is that this man who cares about me and wants to protect me is indestructible. My friend could be dead, every teammate on this plane could die, a nuclear bomb could get dropped on the mansion tomorrow, I could die trying to save Lex on this very mission, but this man, the one I love, will continue on. The look on his face is terrible.

Storm's voice suddenly fills the plane, startling me out of my dark and desperate reverie.

"Cyclops. The news is covering it as we speak." Storm's tone is icier than one of her arctic gale force winds. "It looks to be a radical purist group. White supremacists at their very worst. They go by numerous titles, but most recently Humanity's Advocates. I've accessed police files on all those who have associations with them and the dossiers show them to be particularly cruel. They're heavily armed and extremely dangerous, but they have little experience facing an organized and powerful team such as ours. Nevertheless please do be careful."

"Copy that, Storm. We'll be in touch. Have the medbay waiting, I'd rather bring the injured back with us than risk taking them to a normal hospital."

Beast leaned forward to talk into the comm. Emma could have communicated, but Storm always chooses technology over the White Queen unless it can't be avoided. "Ororo, if you could please locate Josh Foley and have him ready and waiting, I would appreciate it. I'll triage in the field and do what I can, of course."

"Paige and Sam have already taken a mini-jet into Salem Center to retrieve him. Warren's assembling a back up team, in case you need reinforcements."

"Copy that. Cyclops out."

****

The authorities had arrived, for all the good that was doing. It looks like their primary accomplishment at that point, was to set up barricades to keep whatever students and teachers, and random people who hung out on campus in the middle of summer, at bay. The radio mentioned they were waiting for S.W.A.T. so we activated the cloaking device and thanked the fates that the actual building where the attack was happening had a nice wide, flat roof that was perfect for a make-shift Blackbird landing pad. It was also the building where I took my Sociology class with Lex on mutants and the socioeconomic realities of living in the U.S. because not every mutant has a rich Professor and a mansion, and well, when you're purple sometimes it can be hard to get a job at your local grocery store.

Irony.

We exited the Blackbird and my hands itched with the need to light up the entire building in a blindingly explosive effort to find Lex.

My attention focused on Emma, knowing that she was telepathically scanning the situation beneath our feet while Scott and Beast took up defensive positions around her since she was vulnerable flesh while using her telepathy instead of hard diamond.

Her focused expression quickly blanched to match her uniform and her gracefulness doubled over as she relived her most recent meal in a very un-fun way.

That's when I got really, truly, Bastion-level scared. Emma does not sicken easily.

Scott lost his leader-like cool for a fraction of a second as he reached down to help his moaning girlfriend back to her feet.

"God, Emma, what's going on?" Bobby looked like he was about ready to shake the answer out of her which was just as well because I was about ready to blast the answer out of her.

Two seconds later she was cool, calm, collected and diamond-skinned. "Ororo was correct when she said they had a tendency towards cruelty." She turned to face me and Bobby. "Lex is alive. For now." Turned towards Scott. "Their are at least twenty on the third floor, right below us, and ten more spread through out the two lower levels of the building. They did their homework, Lex is one of the few mutants here with offensive-based powers."

I hear what is one of the most comforting sounds in the world to me. **_Snikt_****!**

"Let's move," Wolverine growls.

Scott opted for surprise and blasted the literal ceiling below our feet away and we jumped right down into the middle of it.

I barely held back. Barely. Which is to say X-men don't kill, but I had absolutely no qualms about using my pyrotechnic blasts to blister their skin and pulverize their bones to what I hope is a fine, irreparable dust underneath their muscles. Their groans and cries of pain filled me with a grim satisfaction, while a tiny corner of my brain that still remembered what it was like to be eleven and innocent to the realities of the world shuddered at the violent mayhem exploding around us.

What thrilled and scared me even more was Wolverine in a slashing beserker rage right next to me. Having him with me in any capacity was a thrill but there is nothing else like witnessing this man **fight** and then knowing how to move with him without even thinking about it in a rehearsed and easy effort to beat the enemy into complete and total submission. Wolverine didn't hold back at all, allowing his claws to easily find vital arteries and vital organs, spraying blood all over the place in a rain of gore, a lot of which ended up on both him and me. What **scared** me was that as I kicked, punched, and blasted my way through the terrorists, I felt like a part of me was living vicariously through him. I wasn't killing these brainless assholes, but **he** was and **that** was even more satisfying than watching a wall collapse under the force of one asshole getting blasted into it by yours truly.

In just under two minutes, the X-men had this particular section of hallway cleared of the Advocates and ready to move onto new frontiers.

Scott surveyed the carnage, his red gaze lingering over the dead bodies left by Wolverine, then promptly faced Emma, needing an update.

"Lex has barricaded herself and a group of five into a classroom on the northeast corner of the building, third floor," Emma provided. "She's injured, but she knows we're coming. What's left of the survivors are still on the first level being held hostage."

"What's left?" Wolverine growls, his voice all black anger.

"Right, Rogue, Beast and I will head down to the first floor, Gambit, Wolverine, Iceman, Jubilee, go get Lex." Scott turns to the White Queen. "Emma, head back up and fire up the Blackbird; I want to leave as soon as possible with the injured parties." Scott's already walking towards the stair case, his back to us, when he calls back, "And, Wolverine, the less dead bodies there are, the less explaining will be involved in my immediate future."

Emma, who had received a very personal telepathic taste of their sadism, gave a measuring glance at the back of our fearless leader and then turned her ice blue eyes on us. "Of course, no explanations will be needed when I can just slip in and...edit certain federal official's memories."

Wow, Scott barely reprimanded the killing and Emma gave a big bright green light.

Bobby heads down the hall first, eager to find his girl, and Wolverine grabs his arm, yanking him back towards the group. "Not so fast, bub. Somethin' don't smell right."

Hot pink plasma globules fire up from each of my hands, popping and sizzling like they have a mind of their own.

"Wolverine?" Gambit's accent is thick with tension. Logan's nostrils flared, separating the different scents that came to him and matching them up with Emma's description of the layout.

"Two doors down on the right. Two of the bastard's are holed up in there. Lex'll be at the end of the hall. She ain't the only one injured either." The end of the hall is a mess of rubble and I realize these goons must have tossed a grenade at them and that's what the explosion over the phone was all about. Probably where the injuries came from too.

I suddenly find the urge to pound on something well up within me.

"I'll take the guys in the room."

"Oui, petite." Gambit lights up several cards. "C'mon, Iceman, let's go get da girl."

Wolverine takes up position behind me and I can feel his powerful presence as I move carefully towards the door and Gambit and Iceman proceed passed us towards the debris-strewn end of the hall.

I glance back at Wolverine, then kick the door in.

And freeze because every part of my brain rejects the macabre scene that lays before me.

It smelled like roses. That's what really stuck with me over the next several weeks, what haunted me unrelentingly. What makes my face go white every time I wondered too close to Ororo's gardens and smelled the flowers in the air. Roses.

Her skin was a beautiful dusty rose pink, her hair was light grass green, and she looked very, very young to me. Time stretched out forever as I stared at her bloodied, battered face, the stiffness to her sprawled limbs, the bits of her clothing ruthlessly pushed aside, and the smell of roses took over the whole room.

It was all too easy for me to picture her in a slightly different scenario, with her hands and feet bound and her eyes blindfolded.

She was dead. And she had been raped.


	14. Chapter 14

"Jubilee! GET DOWN!"

All three hundred pounds of muscle and adamantium barreled into me as Wolverine knocked me to the ground just in time to take the assault rifle fire that was sprayed at me. His growl was ferocious as he rolled off of me and my world spun round more than once as he rolled us both, then bodily picked me up, and vaulted us behind an overturned table for the very little amount of cover it would provide.

The two Advocates continued to fire on us without pause, doing a great job of pacing themselves so that one could still shoot while the other reloaded. Wolverine was taking on more bullets than the table which had passed on from being a table to splintered bits of wood and plastic.

A wet and somewhat sticky sensation overcame my body as I realized that Wolverine was oozing blood out faster than he could heal and this iron scent invaded the rosy smell as his blood covered me.

Later on I'll realize I had gone into a sort of battle-shock. Almost the opposite of Wolverine's beserker rages where all thought flees from his enraged mind and the animal takes up residence. I was numb of all emotions, rage included, and able to act without feeling. It was like Jubilation Lee had left the building and I was just a shadow of myself. A cold, battle-ready shadow of myself.

Without looking, I tossed several small fireworks up into the air, creating flash-bombs that assaulted the Advocates senses as they were rendered blind and deaf. With his heightened senses, they affected Logan even more than the enemy, but he also recovered faster and it gave his body a few seconds to catch up with the gunshot wounds.

I grabbed some better cover behind several desks that were clumped together so that Wolverine didn't have to concentrate on protecting me so much and focused all my attention on the rosy girl's murderers. They had opted for retreat and were scrambling towards the door I had just kicked in. Course, I would too if the man I had just unloaded several clips into was climbing to his feet sounding like a rabid Rottweiler from hell. They didn't even see me in the corner.

Time slowed down again like when I first saw the girl and a part of me didn't even realize what was happening. Didn't even realize that I was the one doing it. Sweat formed on my brow as the air started to super-heat around me and shimmer in waves like when viewing the distant horizon of a desert.

Logan felt the energies in the room building around me and turned away from the Advocates to face me, a look of dawning shock on his face. I coldly disregarded the expression on my boyfriend's face as I continued to feed the hungary plasma globules. I wanted these men dead. Deader than dead. I wanted them obliterated.

The burning orbs grew in in size as Wolverine turned back toward the doomed Advocates, claws bared. He lunged at them, faster than a wild predator, aiming very clearly for the back of their heads as they tried to retreat from the room.

He was directly in my line of fire.

Then everything, Wolverine included, disappeared in flash of too-bright light as my power exploded outward, forceful enough to create a shock wave. The explosion took out everything in front of me--**everything**. The room itself started to collapse around me due to it suddenly lacking giant portions of wall and support beams. Then the floor buckled under my feet, lurched, and gave out, swallowing me whole as I fell through.

As I descended, the scent of roses disappeared.

****

I felt like the memories weren't my own. Maybe something like what Rogue must feel. They were in my head but they weren't mine. I **knew **it all took place just seconds ago, but I felt entirely separated from the events as I took stock of my condition. I felt bruised all over, but the armor in my uniform had protected me from most of the damage, and I realize there must be a gash on my forehead right above my left eye because it's stinging distantly and blood's dripping down my face.

I tried to pick myself up, but I was surrounded by so much rubble, there was just no where for me to go. I was lucky the only thing that landed on me was a single desk. I reached for my communicator only to find it broken, then mentally reached for Emma, finding telepathic silence.

Suddenly, there was the sound of plaster and wood groaning and scraping against each other and Rogue was before me like a floating angel decked out in combat gear, saving me from my own destruction.

"What in the hell happened up there, Jubilee?!"

And then I snapped back into myself.

I panicked.

"LOGAN! Logan was up there! He was up there and he got caught in the blast and then the building came down and ohmigod **_LOGAN_**!"

I start flailing, trying to climb up the rubble, back up to the next floor where I last saw Wolverine even as the wreckage continued to slide back down on fallen bits of floor. "LOGAN! He's up there!"

"Awright, sugar, just calm down now," Rogue floated towards me, then effortlessly took my weight as she levitated us up through the hole and I looked around frantically for Wolvie, realizing that I was starting to hyperventilate.

Rogue sat me down on a piece of wall like a child as the world blurred behind my tears and I quickly lost the ability to speak as uncontrollable sobs wracked my body, bringing several bruised ribs to attention.

Her intercom was still intact. "Hey, Cyclops, I've got Jubilee and she's okay. We're on what's left of the third floor and we're tryin' to locate Wolverine. Did Emma get the Blackbird off okay before the roof caved in?"

"Affirmative. She'll swing back around to pick us up when we're regrouped. Let me know when you find Wolverine."

Rogue then turned to me again. "Okay, Jubilee, it's Wolverine, sweetie--he's gonna be **fine**. Now where did the blast come from?"

"M-m-me. I-I d-did it."

Rogue's face falls slack as she takes in the carnage around her as if for the first time.

"I always knew you packed a powerful punch, gal, but I didn't think think you were one for such extensive property damage..." her voice trails off as her eye catches sight of something in the area where the blast was focused. Something that resembled a crisped human limb.

She left me where I was and made her way towards what proved to be the body of one of the Advocates I was intent on murdering. She dug him out gingerly, picking up pieces of the building like they were feather-light pillows until he was fully uncovered and revealed to be nothing more than a burnt corpse. I watched her methodically work her way through the area, unable to move from the spot she had planted me at. She quickly revealed the second Advocate's body in her efforts and then we both heard a pain-filled groan emanate from somewhere in between us.

The sound granted me movement.

I flung myself towards it. "Rogue!"

"I heard it, girl," She flies towards me and lifts what my small arms are incapable of to reveal the Wolverine buried within.

The best thing I can say about his state is that his torso was intact...his limbs though...his arms and legs were bare adamantium in whole sections where my plasma had burned away chunks of skin and muscle entirely.

He was, quite simply, a mutilated mess of a man. And I had done it to him.

I lunged for him, crying desperately, trying futilely to pull him out and Rogue almost had to bodily toss me away from him. I was of no practical use to her or him and I'm pretty sure she was talking to me, saying something about how he'd heal, just let her get him out of the building and on the Blackbird but I didn't have the mental capacity to understand her words.

In a few seconds she had him cleared of the rubble, and I tried to move toward him again, only to find Remy holding me back, cursing violently in French. Suddenly there were more people all around us, walking carefully as the floor started to creak ominously, threatening to collapse the rest of the way in. It was the group Gambit and Iceman had gone in to retrieve.

Gambit flung me around to face him, grabbing my shoulder hard. "Jubilee! Snap out of it, petite! We gotta get dese folk outta hear before the damn floor caves in!"

"But, Logan..."

Remy's red on black eyes looked like they belonged to the devil himself. "He's come back from much worse, chere! Other people need us more."

"That's fer damn sure," Wolverine rasped from behind me. I turn to face him like an idiot. He was awake and standing on his own feet again, albeit heavily leaning against Rogue. I could literally see muscle grow and knit itself back together, covering up the unnatural silver color of his adamantium bones as his healing factor compensated for the devastating injuries.

No amount of Gambit's strength could keep me from going to him this time. "Oh, God, Logan, I'm **sorry,** I'm so **fucking sorry**! I didn't mean--" He cuts me off with a hard, feral kiss and I can taste blood on my tongue and I swear I'm going crazy because I can smell the roses again even after all the destruction that's decimated the area.

He breaks the kiss, takes stock of his surroundings like a pro, then turns back to Rogue. "Call in Summers and Frost. Looks like everyone's accounted for. I think it's far past time we get the hell outta here."

He throws a protective arm around me and we hold each other up, me an emotional wreck, him still recovering physically. Rogue moves forward to start her own special brand of airlifting the survivors out of there and into the hovering Blackbird and I realize Bobby's standing off to the corner, holding up an injured Lex with one hand and utilizing his other to create an icy network of super dense ice in an effort to keep the building intact. Her face is obscured in the shadows of the building, her eyes glowing a hard yellow.

"Lex!"

"Remember how we said we'd never go to a meeting like this? Like it was asking for trouble?"

"Yeah," I rasp, my throat sore from crying.

"We really fucking called that one, eh?"

I smile faintly. "Don't you hate it when we're right?"

****

They had everyone loaded onto the Blackbird in short order. All the seats went to the wounded and Hank and Rogue were going from person to person applying first aid while we headed towards the mansion at full speed. That left Logan and I standing in the back of the plane. Cyclops should have called in Angel's team for transport at the very least, but we were going for a hasty a retreat. They were going to have a lot more explaining to do than they had originally anticipated and it looked like the Professor was going to become a generous donator to my University.

Logan and I stood silently, side by side. He had healed completely by this point--even his body hair had grown back--but I could tell he was on the verge of crashing hard. I kept close to him, but was so wracked with guilt I could hardly stand to look at him. Could hardly believe what I had unleashed back at the school.

Having seen to everyone else, Hank made his way over to me, intent on checking me over since I was the one teammate to sustain injuries other than my self-healing boyfriend. Blowing up a building while you're in it and then falling through the floor does that to a girl.

His question was innocent and his tone was soft, as he asked me, "Jubilation, just how much of this blood is your own?"

I stared at him blankly, then looked down at my body, realizing I was **covered** in the viscous, stickyness of it. It was **all over me**. Images flashed before my eyes, the dead pink girl, the crisped bodies of the Advocates, Wolverine's burning and bleeding wounds. Nausea overwhelmed me and I immediately became the second person to puke on this particular mission.

Lucky me, Hank is a forgiving person.

Dizziness overcame me, and Logan was there to support my weight as I reeled backwards, and Rogue was suddenly there with a towel to my face and Hank was ignoring the mess I'd made of the front of his uniform and muttering about concussions under his breath as he attempted to shine a bright light into my eyes.

I pushed back the second wave of nausea, moaning miserably.

"Killed them--I killed them..."

"What did she say?" Hank asked with puzzled alarm.

"Oh, God, oh no..." Rogue, who had been the one to uncover the dead bodies, whispered.

"No you didn't darlin'. No you didn't." Wolverine's voice was firm, confident, as strong as his arms were around me.

"Logan, what is she talking about?" Hank queried.

Logan ignored him, leaning towards me til I could feel his breath on my neck. "They were dead before your blast hit them, I swear to God they were, Jubilee. You did **not** kill them."

I turned to look into his steel-hard blue eyes, feeling tears fall down my cheeks again.

"I didn't?" I said in a very small voice.

"You didn't," he confirmed.

The scene played before my eyes again. Logan looking at me with shock on his hardened face. Wolverine lunging at the Advocates like a mad thing with deadly intent right before they all disappeared in my blast. Had he really been that fast? Had he really reached them before I did?

"You...?"

"Claws to the brain before we all went down. They died instantly."

I leaned back into his powerful bulk, feeling relief for the first time since Cyclops had barreled into Wolverine's room. I curled into a ball with his arms around me, crying out all the tension, guilt, and grief. He supported my weight, stable as a rock. This man was willing to take on the responsibility of murdering for me, was capable of forgiving me my intent to kill and my ability to render him a broken man from grievous wounds. Even when I was in a cold, killing rage he'd go to all means, including taking on my very own powerful explosion, to protect me.

Logan saved me from myself that day.


	15. Chapter 15

**I can't thank you all enough for your reviews and appreciation for my story. That being said, THANK YOU:)**

**You guys rock.**

The aftermath to an event such as this puts the mansion in a silent, business-like, grim mood. Everything becomes very methodical and the banter gives way to clipped. monotone sentences about bandages and I.V.s, updates on people's conditions, and rehearsed speeches to the newcomers about how we were the X-men and this was Xavier's and they would be safe and taken care of here.

Elixir arrived shortly after we all did, flanked by Paige and Sam who were wearing identical concerned expressions. Josh took one look at the room, then immediately went to Hank who took him from seriously injured person to least, healing as they went. By the time they got to me, Josh looked like he was about ready to keel over from exhaustion and my heart went out to the teenager.

"Dude, like don't worry about it. I'll be fine; it's not that bad."

"Exactly, Jubilee. So it really won't take much more out of me. Besides, do you really want to hang around here even longer so Hank can stitch up your forehead?"

He's such a practical kid. And thoughtful.

"No. I really don't." Especially since I had a splitting headache and I knew Josh could fix that too. "You're the best, Foley."

"So everyone keeps saying." He placed a hand gently on the side of my face, since that was some of the only skin he had access to due to my body-covering, reinforced uniform, and a tingling sensation started at his hand, then gently spread as all physical pain left me.

"All right, kid, I think she's good." Logan glowered at him til he removed his hand from my face.

I threw Wolverine a sharp glance then turned back to Josh. "Thanks a ton. My collection of scars would be doubled now if it weren't for you."

He smiled, then made his way back over to Hank, making sure nothing else was needed of him

I face Wolvie. "Jealous of a teenager, Logan?"

"Your a beautiful older woman and he's a horny teenage boy. The pheromones comin' off him were irritatin' me."

"Oh." I decided not to comment on the idea of him calling me "older" at only twenty. God knows I felt it more today then ever before.

I hopped off the bed and we exited the medbay together without anyone particularly noticing us. I knew that once Cyclops has a chance to process the entire mission and get everyone's account of what happened--Rouge's included--he'd want to have a Serious Discussion with me and **that** is something I was in no way looking forward to. I really needed to decompress and shower and sleep and maybe go through some sort of memory extraction process before that happened and until then, I was fully prepared to go into full-time avoidance mode. I didn't even know what to say or think about the last few hours and could hardly believe that shortly before all this I was happily losing myself in Logan's arms.

Speaking of Logan and avoidance, I didn't particularly know what to say to **him** either so I didn't even try. He contentedly and silently shadowed me through the lower levels, up into the mansion, and upstairs til we were both standing outside of my bedroom door.

"Dude..." you can tell I really don't know what to say to Wolverine when I start calling him "dude" instead of his usual rundown of affectionate nicknames. Goddamn my annoying nervous speech habits. "I, like, have blood and pieces of building all over me...."

He takes the hint. Which actually upsets me a great whopping deal. "Yeah, I'm gonna hit the shower too," he says and then before I have a chance to say anything else, he disappears into his room, the door gently clicking shut with a finality that brought fresh tears to my eyes all over again.

I guess he didn't know what the fuck to say either.

I head into my own bedroom, tears already rolling down my grit-stained cheeks, and ripped my soiled uniform off my body as fast as possible. Two seconds later, the shower was turned on full blast, the water temperature scalding, and my sobbing had transcended into a desperate bout of hyperventilating.

I focused desperately on the simple, habitual movements of washing as I watched the water run a dirty pinkish brown from blood and grime and a detached part of my brain realized that I needed to finish quickly and get myself into bed before I blacked out due to hyperventilation. My vision was already turning spotty.

Once clean, I grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my dripping body without even bothering to use it properly, wanting only to disappear underneath my bedcovers until the entire world decided to oblige me by coming to an end.

Logan decided differently. He was waiting for me in my room, clean, and dressed comfortably in sweats and a plain white tee. His usual choice for sleepwear, I noticed before he enveloped me in a powerful embrace.

"Hey, Jubilation, shh..."

I thought I had cried myself out on the Blackbird. I was wrong.

Logan picked me up and sat us both on the bed with me cradled in his arms much like at the beginning of the summer, only this time his efforts to comfort me included light kisses on my brow, my temple, my cheek, along my jawline and neck.

After several moments, I regained control of my crying again, trying hard to match Logan's deep, even breathing, feeling his powerful chest move against me and under my small, but dangerous hands. He ran a powerful hand through my wet hair and down my bare back and I realized just how little I was wearing.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me just now." I hide my face in Logan's neck, not wanting to look into his eyes just yet.

"Why in the hell would you think that for even a second?" He placed a kiss behind my ear and along my hair line, making my whole body shiver.

"Because I turned into a crazy harbinger of destruction and blew you up?"

He cradles my swollen, blotchy face in his rough hands, looking deep into what must be my blood-shot eyes. "Jubilee, you should know better'n anyone that it takes a hell of a lot more than that to get ridda me."

Then he kissed me deeply.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, matching his ardor with enthusiasm, which caused, of all things, my bath towel to slip.

He growled and pulled my naked body against him and I felt a heady fever spread through out me as I ran my hands over every bit of him I could reach then pulled at his clothes, wanting to feel his skin against mine, wanting everything he could offer me. I know I was a wreck, that I wasn't thinking clearly, that this was a reaction to the events that just took place instead of a conscious decision, but I didn't care.

Logan lifted us from the bed while continuing to hold me against him and kiss me thoroughly and I worked at relieving him of his clothes. He moved his mouth to my neck again and bit down--always a good sign, something he only does when he's no longer thinking rationally and letting his control give way.

Or so I thought.

He grips my roaming hands by the wrists and pulls away from me, leaving us both standing just in front of my bed where I'd much rather be.

He leans his head in against mine, but refuses to kiss me again and disappointment wells up within me.

"Not tonight, Jubilee. Not after what you just saw. What you just went through."

I notice for the for the first time since seeing him in my room how strained his voice is, how tired and worried he looks. I run my fingers against the creases in his brow, the lines at the corners of his eyes.

"Logan..."

"I mean it."

I close my own eyes in acceptance and lean in to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Or as chaste as possible considering I'm standing before him completely bare and that small kiss forces a catch in his breath.

"Your towel..." He sounds like the victim of a violent strangling, his voice is so haggard with equal parts need and worry.

I glance back up at him as I realize Logan's straining hard to look everywhere except for at me.

That night Logan and I slept together for the first time since our relationship began. Which is to say, I donned an oversized t-shirt and some light-weight jammy pants and we both climbed into my bed together because one look from him was enough to tell me there was no way in hell he was leaving me by myself that night. He pulled me close against him and I snuggled into his chest, reveling in his security as exhaustion started to overwhelm me.

"You know I love you, Logan." I didn't even bother to think before I said it.

The air was squeezed out of me in response.

"I love you too, Jubilee."


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm so glad everyone enjoyed that last chapter. I LOVE Jubilee so much and I've really enjoyed writing this story, because really, she never gets any action these days. It's nice to know you all love her still too.**

**This story still has some more chapters in, although I am starting to wind it down. I appreciate you guys hanging in there.**

Morning brought a sensation that I typically associate with a hangover. I felt like, well, like a building had fallen on top of me. Which is exactly what had happened. Of course, there was no physical pain or evidence left because I was healed by mutant super-powers last night, but that doesn't change the fact that a building did, indeed, fall on top of me in more ways than one.

I felt like I was **still** trying to climb out of the emotional rubble.

I woke to Logan no longer in the bed, but standing next to me, holding out a cup of steaming coffee like he was offering me a bouquet of flowers like a bribe.

"...time is it, Wolvie?" I sit up and accept his gift. Cream with extra sugar.

"Eight fifteen. Scott's been askin' to talk to ya. Emma too, although I think she wants to talk to ya about somethin' different and separate of Summers."

"Ugh. I don't want to do either."

"I figured. I told 'em to mind their own damn business, for all the flamin' good that did."

"What about Rogue?" I hate to think what kind of conclusions the Southern belle had come to since last night.

"She's still sleepin'."

I arched a brow. "Speaking of...and you're wakin' me up right now, because...?"

"Cause I don't want you hangin' around the mansion today. Thought we'd grab the bike, go out for the day. Get away from all o' this."

And I was planning on skulking around the mansion hiding all day.

"Really?"

"Really, darlin'. That work for you?"

"Hell yeah it works for me, Wolvie."

I dressed in record time in a pair of old jeans and a simple t-shirt and we sped away from the mansion with Wolverine's Harley growling satisfactorily beneath us. We found an off-the-highway diner for an appropriately greasy breakfast and then Logan drove us to a woods that looked the exact same to me as those that surrounded the mansion, but were farther away.

"You and your wilderness, Wolvster."

"It's therapeutic."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He walked out in front of me, along what I eventually recognized as a game trail.

"So, where's this go, Logan?"

"Into more woods."

"More woods?"

"Yep."

"And then what?"

"Ain't ya ever been on a hike before, darlin'?"

"A hike? That's your grand plan?" I pump my legs faster, catching up along side him.

"Never said it was grand."

I stop, giving him an Is This Really What We're Doing Here? look.

He flashes me a wolfish grin and offers me his hand like he's ready to escort me out onto a dance floor. "C'mon, Jubilation. It'll make ya feel better."

He knows I can't say no to him. He so totally knows how to manipulate me with those handsome smiles. I give him my hand and he laces his fingers through mine and we continue further into the woods.

****

An hour and a half later, I have to admit, I see what Wolvie was talking about. My bare feet cooled in what can honestly only be called a bubbling brook, my abandoned socks and tennis to one side, an equally bare foot and relaxed Wolverine to my other.

The weather was gorgeous. Cloudy enough to offer occasional shade but no rain, warm instead of suffocating heat and the soft, easy sounds of chirping birds and the breeze blowing through trees was absolutely refreshing. We couldn't have personally ordered more perfect weather from Storm herself.

The hike itself was an easy, invigorating sort of exercise, freeing because it had nothing to do with self-defense techniques or battle tactics or concentrating on forming volatile plasma globules that I was then responsible for controlling. I could just ramble along next to Logan without thinking of anything in particular, and not having to stress over any explanations that may or may not take place in my immediate future, be it over the revelation of my relationship with Logan or why exactly I lost it on yesterday's rescue mission. Maybe the fact that I was emotionally compromised over Lex will be enough of an excuse.

I scooted closer to Logan, then bumped myself against him, small arm against his heavily muscled one until he obliged me by raising his arm and letting me tuck myself against his side.

"Thanks for takin' me up here, Logan. This is really nice."

"And you doubted me."

I splashed him with my foot.

"Did not."

"Uh-huh."

"So how often do you come up here?"

"Not much. Only when I want a little extra distance between me and the mansion. Helps with perspective, y'know?"

"Perspective, huh?"

"It's too easy to get wrapped up in those fancy brick walls of Xavier's. Like nothin' outside of it exists and what happens there is all you can focus on." His voice seems far away, like he's recalling some distant memory.

"Last night's mission didn't happen there."

"It was an X-mission, darlin'. Same difference. We all bring the missions home with us."

"That's for damn sure," I sigh. I missed the normalcy of school. And grimaced because school meant less time with Logan and because my university was now the site of my latest traumatic experience. Join the X-men, see the world, and then have traumatic associations with most of the world, parts of outer space, and even the odd alternate dimension. Yaaay.

We lapsed into silence as last nights events rolled through my mind.

"What's it like to kill a person, Logan?" My throat threatened to close up as soon as I uttered the words, but I had to make myself face this.

"Y'know how you felt yesterday?"

"I'm not likely to forget anytime soon."

"It's like that. Only the guilt doesn't go away. And sometimes the feeling of power doesn't go away either."

I bite my lip. "Power?"

"The power over their life. And takin' it from them. You felt it; I saw it on your face, right before I attacked them. You had the ability to kill them and you knew you had the ability, and you were just unable to stop yourself."

I watch the water bubble over the rocks in the stream as my vision blurs.

"Y'know, really...I'm still partially responsible, Logan. It's not like you could have **saved** their lives from my explosion. Well, at least not both of them at the same time. And, really, I'm just lucky they were close enough together that you could reach **both** of them before I did. And if I hadn't have lost it and decided to kill them, they could both still be alive."

He looks at me levelly as I feel wetness on my face again. Ever since we started dating, started getting even closer than we ever were before, it was a hell of lot harder to control the urge to cry around him.

His voice is absolutely deadly as he says, "No, Jubilation, they would **not** still be alive, not after what they did, I fucking **promise** you that. You just made me move faster."

"It's still just a technicality. They weren't dead the moment you decided, Logan." A shudder runs through me. "They were dead the moment **I** decided."

He sighs and his broad shoulders slump in defeat. "Yeah, darlin' I know. It still makes a difference though, Jubilee." He reaches up to wipe away my tears and wraps his arms around me again and he tucks my head under his chin.

"What if it happens again?"

"Won't know til it happens, darlin'. But you can bet your ass I'll be there to try and prevent it."

"You mean beat me to the punch."

"Same difference."

"Or a technicality."

He drops a kiss on my head. "Yeah, that too."

I sniff as tears continue to flow freely.

"I can't get her out of my head, Logan. I feel like I'm going to see her for the rest of my life, just laying there dead."

He starts rocking me gently back and forth and I cry harder.

"I know, Jubes, I know."

****

As much as I would have liked, Logan and I couldn't avoid the mansion forever and we made our way back home as the sun disappeared behind the horizon, giving way to soft blue twilight. We parked the bike in the garage and wondered in just in time for what seemed to be an eclectic and impromptu group dinner. There was BBQ, salad, steak, jumbalaya, pasta, hotdogs, hamburgers, and one of the younger students, who was clearly Japanese, was even rolling her own sushi.

"Holy crap, guys! Who started the cooking class?"

"Chere! You must try my gumbo. It is tres delicieux, if I do say so myself."

"Gumbo-made gumbo? Seriously cool."

I take his offered bite and just about choke on the cayenne-flavored explosion in my mouth.

"Kaff! Geez...Lousie...Remy..."

"See, what did I tell you?"

"Here, sugar," Rogue said, coming to my rescue. "Some sweet tea will go a long way in controllin' that fire." She affectionately slaps Remy's shoulder. "I told ya to only hand that out with a warnin'!"

"Que? She's fine!"

After that, I opted for some BBQ ribs and salad while I watched Wolvie sniff at the fresh fish.

"Nice, Hisako. Where'd ya find this?"

"Fresh fish market in town. Would you like a roll, Logan-san?"

"Sure, darlin'. Only if you have enough."

Logan grabbed a beer and pulled up a seat next to me shortly after that.

"Anyone ever tell you you have weird taste in food, Wolvie?"

"Sushi ain't weird, darlin."

"No, it's not. In fact, I **like** sushi." I look significantly at his plate of food. **"That,** however, is **weird**."

He glowers at his plate full of ribs, chicken, a t-bone and the lone salmon roll.

"Felt like some protein."

"Uh-huh..." I swipe a piece of his steak, cooked at a perfect medium rare.

"Y'know, I've--"

"Killed people for less?" I bat my innocent blue eyes at him then proceed to eat my conquered bite of steak while he was torn between irritation and exasperation.

"That was a daring move at the dinner table if I ever witnessed one," Hank commented from across the way.

"What can I say, Blue? Daring is my specialty." Then I kick it up a few notches past daring as I swipe a sip of Wolvie's beer. Certainly not the smartest move I've ever made in this relationship.

But lucky me, he loves me, and has opted for gentlemanly exasperation.

"Next time, darlin, all ya gotta do is ask." He turns to face the kitchen. "Hey Gambit, how about another beer while you're up?"

As Remy places a fresh beer in front of Logan, Logan hands me his original with a playful wink.

"Well, that was certainly generous of you, Logan," says Hank.

"Generous, my ass. I'm lulling her into a false sense of complacency. She'll pay for it later." He says this while putting an affectionate arm around my shoulders.

"Mmm. Pay for it, indeed."

Bobby chose that moment to pull up a chair next to Beast. "Hey! Are you guys finally out of the closet?"

We both stop short and stare at Bobby, startled.

"Uuhhh.."

"Uuhhmm..."

Hank frowns, at a loss. "Closet...?" Then his eyes widen in realization.

"One would think," Gambit says as he and Rogue sit down together. "Because if Wolverine's takin' to randomly kissin' the femmes on tough missions like last night than I don't want Rogue on his team anymore. Dat's my job." He winks playfully at Rogue then smiles at us and I realize that the whole room has turned quiet and is focusing on our conversation.

"That's **your** job is it?" Rogue harrumphs doubtfully. "If you're claimin' that as your job, Remy, I have some constructive criticism for ya!"

Paige joins the table with a healthy, happy Lex in tow.

"Well, Rogue, let's be fair now..." Paige starts around her bite of hotdog. I notice that older brother Cannonball is looking as shocked as Hank at the sudden turn in conversation.

"It's not like he can always kiss you without proper precautions...I mean, it wouldn't do for Gambit to pass out mid-mission." Count on Paige for the logical argument.

Lex gives me and Logan an encouraging grin and guilt-faced Bobby a punch in the arm. "Way to blow it, ya wanker."

It's not like Logan and I were trying to **hide** it, what with yesterday's mid-action kiss, or, the fact that we got walked in on by **Scott** of all people. Who we still haven't seen since. We just weren't expecting for it to suddenly become a topic for group discussion.

Paige joins Lex in encouragement. "So, how was y'all's day out? Had a good time?"

"Yeah," I say quickly and faintly.

"It was fine," Logan replies in a monotone.

Lex, Rogue, and Paige all smile at us as if the bigger their grins, the easier it would be for everyone to act like everything was normal.

Remy, bless him, takes a different route.

"Anyone tape the playoff game tonight?"

Bobby latches onto this with enthusiasm. "Dude, don't even worry, I got us covered. Want to watch it after dinner? Huh? Anyone else? Sports night, people? Lex?"

"Count me in," says Sam.

After that, the general conversation drifts away from us, although the previously clueless proceeded to give us surreptitious, calculating looks like they were adding up small things they've noticed all summer and matching them up with the now obvious conclusion.

Logan and I began to relax with our dinner again, realizing, that just like that, we were officially out of the closet. And no one had exploded in protest.

As most of the younger students cleared out, opting for a movie night, Bobby leaned towards us apologetically. "Sorry guys...didn't mean to put the spotlight on you."

"No worries, Bobby, it was inevitable."

Logan just settles for a glare.

Then Hank, Bobby, and Lex all went from looking at us to looking right above us.

"Hey, Summers," Logan growls without bothering to look behind him.

I grimace. Ugh, speaking of inevitable.

"Logan. Jubilee. Nice to see the two of you finally back." Why do I not believe that he means that sincerely?

"Hiya, Cyke."

I got up from the table with my cleaned plate and empty beer can, deciding that I still wasn't in the mood to face Scott in all his authoritative glory.

"That was great, guys. Thanks for dinner!" I didn't even bother to see if Logan was on the same page as me, wanting only to exit at least somewhat gracefully. Of course, graceful went out the window with Scott's next statement.

"Oh, Jubilee. Emma's been wanting to see you all day. She's upstairs in her office."

"Oh, well, y'know, maybe I can just catch up with her tomorrow or..."

"No, now is fine. I just asked her." Meaning he just gave her the telepathic shout out. Nice of him to check and see if now was okay with **me**.

"Oh, umm, actually, I was thinking..."

_Now, Jubilation. It's not what you might think. And it's important_, Emma said, invading my brain.

Ugh.

I blew out a sigh of defeat and trudged upstairs like I was thirteen years old again and Emma was the newly made Headmistress of the Massachusetts school.

Later on, I found out that Scott took the opportunity to corner Logan for a talk.


	17. Chapter 17

**Short, I know. Life is getting busy. Don't worry, I'll finish this if it's the last thing I do! (Famous last words, I know)**

"Jubilation."

Every once in a while--only on the odd occasion--I get this crazy urge to bow in greeting when I talk to the White Queen. It's not like I have this whole crazy uber-respect, hero-worship thing going on with Emma, it's just that the amount of **formality** she oozes out of her perfectly hidden pores makes me really, really uncomfortable and I feel like I should maybe bow to relieve some of that discomfort. Like it's expected and if I just go ahead and freaking do it, I'll save myself some grief.

But, of course, I never, never, **never** do because Jubilation Lee does not bend over backwards unnecessarily to authority, dammit! Not even the Professor made me feel like I should bow. Certainly not Scott. Course, growing up with Wolvie calling him Scooter and...other less savory nicknames, helped me keep from feeling too uncomfortable around our dear fearless leader.

Honestly, I think it's because Emma's female.

I was the skinniest little boob-less thing the mansion had seen in a long while by the time I came around and growing up around such flawless beauties like Jean and Storm and Psylocke and Rogue can really give a poor girl a complex. And then Emma takes it up another notch because she takes perfection to a higher level, decked out in her pristine white uniform with flowing cape and mountainous cleavage and near-six pack abs and here I am with no make-up, windblown Harley hair, grass stains on my jeans, and BBQ sauce on my shirt.

Ugh.

I am not afraid to lay back and relax and I refuse to feel ashamed over it. So there.

She arches what I'm pretty sure is a bleached eye-brow. "Have a good time today, darling?"

"Yeah. It was awesome. What's up, Frosty?"

"You left the medbay last night before I got a chance to talk to you. And then again this morning. I don't think anyone was expecting you to be up and about quite so early."

So far, she's just stating the obvious so I take a seat in front of her desk not interested in the bullshit portion of this conversation. Apparently, I'm getting better at the silent glare that says Really, This, is What You're Going to Pretend to Talk to Me About? My theory is that it comes with equal parts experience and age. And it worked for Emma.

"Yes...well." Emma continues into the silence. "Do you even know what her name was? Because I do."

"Uhh." Okay, this is hitting right on the **one** **thing** I hoped to God neither Scott or her actually wanted to confront me about over the last twenty-four hours.

"Daisy. Her name was, ironically enough, Daisy. Just a simple twist of fate that gave her that name at birth when she would one day grow up to be beautiful floral mutant girl who had a way with roses."

My throat clogs as Emma continues and tears prick my eyes.

"Her coloring was wrong for Daisies, her scent, and especially her powers were all wrong, but she never decided to take on a mutant name that accurately depicted her look or her abilities. So she was a brilliant, affectionate, rosy girl named Daisy who was eighteen years old and much beloved to all her friends. Fortunately, her friends will never know what you and I know when it came to her final moments."

The image of Emma going white even for her and getting sick popped back into my brain.

Emma delicately and pointedly handed me a tissue from her desk so I could wipe up my tears.

"Next Friday, the mutant survivors from last night are holding a joint funeral service for all those who died, Daisy included."

"You mean all those we were too late to save."

I realize belatedly that I must be emoting because Emma transitions to her diamond state and no one, not even her, would want to be in my head right now.

"It's being held in a mutant friendly neighborhood in the City and I thought you would like to know so that you may attend. A team of X-men will be there for protection, regardless."

Daisy. A name to put to the broken, battered face, the gorgeous pink skin, the sprawled, naked, abused limbs that made up the image that was burned into my brain. Daisy.

"Foregoing unforeseen events, **I** will be attending **every** mission you will be on for the next several months, Jubilation." My head snaps up at this sudden change of topic and tone. Her voice held echoes of anger and sadness.

"What?"

"We can bypass the part where I confront you about you're past trauma and where you then have to deal with it. Suffice to say, I am aware. And I know Logan is aware. And that you have my word that it goes no farther than me."

I stare at her numb and dumbfounded.

"However," Emma continues, cool and collected, "you have no where near the emotional stability you need to handle another Daisy, so I will be on every mission and if I say you back off then you** sodding better well back off**. And continue with your therapy."

An uncomfortable cloud of silence fills up the room as I continue to stare at the White Queen.

"That being said, let me know if you decide you want to attend the funerals. You'll go in a civilian capacity; I won't have you on the active team that night. Understood?"

Despite the fact that Emma just handed out several orders as to how my life was going to go in several aspects I opted for a silent, acquiescent nod.

"All right, then. Have a good evening, Jubilation."

I stand and make my way to the door, feeling like I was several steps behind processing what just happened. But sometimes a girl just has to go with what comes to mind because analyzing can be overrated. Which is my excuse for my next statement. Because I'm not entirely sure I would have meant it just at that instance.

"Emma? Thanks for...thank you."

I exited before she could say more.


	18. Chapter 18

He found me on the roof. Which, by now, had become a staple in our relationship. He curled his body around mine in our normal roof-sitting pose, placed a quick, stubbled kiss on my cheek, and growled out, "Summers is one hell of bastard."

"For cornering me earlier? Yeah."

"Not what I meant. For cornering **me** earlier."

I stiffen in surprise, feeling an "oh shit" coming on. And, dammit, I really was just too tired for anymore drama, be it Scott's tight-ass, passive aggressive type or not.

I hang my head. "Ugh. Really? And here I though they weren't gonna make waves or whatever considering Emma never even brought it up. I don't want to deal with that, Wolvie, really, I don't."

"Actually, he didn't seem to care one way or another."

"But, I thought you meant that--"

"Oh, he made me sweat over it for a bit, the bastard. Not that it would have changed anything, but dealing with him when he can be pissy just gets tired fast."

"So he's not taking a stance against us?" I didn't dare let myself believe.

"Nope. Don't think he's necessarily the biggest fan or anything, but he's one guy we're not going to have to deal with, darlin'."

I exhaled as this worry I'd been harboring all summer evaporated like mist.

"Did you expect that, Logan? Because I didn't expect that. I mean I always, **always** thought that they'd put their authoritative noses way up our asses and draw on all of these philosophers to lecture us day and night and just rain down with their disapproval. Like, **mega** disapproval."

"Well, to be honest, I think the disapproval's there, but he just doesn't have the time or inclination to put in his two cents."

"Oh." I deflate a little at this. I hate knowing that Scott Summers doesn't support a big part of my life. It's not like we're tight; it's just that you always have to deal with him because he's the leader and I swear, that after being around telepaths for so long, the man has developed this innate power to let everyone around him to know exactly how he thinks things should be done according to him. A look, a small twitch of his mouth, a tilt of his head, and BAM the whole team will understand that we're seen as somewhat taboo. That being said, no one keeps a secret like he does.

"So, what exactly did he say about us as a couple then?"

"'You and Jubilee, huh?' To which I just glared and he changed the subject."

"What did he want to talk to you about then?"

"You."

I stiffen and find a whole new plethora of worries that bubble up within me.

"Specifically, about your display of power on the mission. He wanted my assessment because of my combat experience and because of how well I know you."

"And...?"

"He wants to up your Danger Room training."

"And he came to you instead of me?"

"Well, that was his plan after talking to me."

"What exactly did you say?"

For as long as we've been fighting together, I never really liked to stop and think about what Logan may or may not have truly thought about my fighting abilities. Especially when I was younger. He knew I had spunk, street smarts, and was reasonably good with my fireworks and plasma globules. He knew exactly what I was capable of and expected me to do just that and accepted me. And when I grew and got better and more powerful gradually from fighting side by side with him and from training with the other X-men, he accepted me as I changed.

But I was always just little ole me and he was the goddamn Wolverine, the best there was, period. And now he was my boyfriend and assessing my combat ability for Cyclops. And apparently I needed more danger room training.

"Basically that your emotions were a mess and you weren't paying attention to your surroundings."

I.E. the building fell on top of me. I really was lucky I didn't kill myself.

"But your technique was perfect and your power level seems to still be growing. I said before you were top notch, darlin'."

I duck my head as he turned to look into my eyes. "I always thought you meant top notch for me...not top notch compared to everyone else."

"Jubilee, Scott wanted to talk to me because you impressed him. He wants you in the Danger Room more often because he knows you're capable of even more."

"Oh." Caught by surprise I have become monosyllabic Jubilee. We drift into silence while I process these nuggets of information and Logan waits to see my response.

"It's going to be hard to increase Danger Room time with me going back to school..."

"Yeah."

This was a topic we had not overly addressed. We'd been spending every day together this summer. In fact, I knew that Logan had been turning down mission time with different X-Teams so he could be with me. This fall everything was going to change. My mission time would decrease drastically. So would the amount of time we would spend together. I couldn't even begin to think about how much I'd miss him.

Sensing that I was clamming up on him, Logan went for a different track.

"So what did Frost corner you about?"

"Daisy."

"Huh?"

"She was the dead girl. There's going to be a joint funeral for her and all the others and Emma was telling me so that I could decide if I want to go."

"Do you want to?"

I sighed thinking that I was very close to losing track to the number of funerals I've attended over the two decades of my life. And the first had been my parents.

"No. But I know I'll regret it if I don't."

"I'll go with you, darlin'."

I lean in for a kiss. "I know that too. And she knows about me."

He jerks up in surprise.

"Knows...?" His face turns dark. "Damn."

"Yeah."

"Jubilee..."

"It's fine. I mean, it sucks, but it's fine. She wasn't trying to play self-appointed therapist or anything. Well, she is monitoring my missions from now on. Doesn't want me to have another episode in the field. But she's minding her own business and keeping her mouth shut about the whole damn thing and that's that."

"You okay?"

I give him an incredulous look. Anyone's who's been asked if she's okay as much as I have in the last twenty-four hours knows that automatically means you're not really okay. And Wolverine's been the repeat-offender to that specific question.

"All right, that was a mostly stupid question. But you know what I mean."

I smile slightly. "I'll **be** okay. I just..." I tug at his arms so that he pulls me into him tighter.

"Yeah, darlin'."

"Yeah."

**Tomorrow's Wednesday:) Yay comic books. It always puts me in the mood. Hope you all enjoyed this!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry it took so long. I was out of town and then my internet went down. I'm stealing very sloooow internet to do this. Sad.**

He slept with me again that night too. But it was purely PG rated. I suppose part of me would start to worry that, really, Logan was beginning to realize that as much as he loved me, he maybe wasn't finding the spark he was hoping for when it came to our sex life. Or very big lack thereof.

But I knew that he was being a perfect gentleman due to recent events. How, one might wonder? God, poor, Logan. My poor, love-starved, patient and wonderful boyfriend. Love-starved is a euphemism, by the way.

I woke to find him already completely awake and immediately noticed he was tense. I felt myself start to tense in response because when the Wolverine is already on alert you know you only have so much time to get your act together and prepare for all out war or you're going to be either very sorry or very dead. Turns out, I totally misread the reasoning behind the tension.

"What's wrong?" I jolt up in bed, taking in my surrounding for a possible attack.

"Nothin', Jubilee, just relax." His voice is more growl than human male.

"Nothing's wrong? You look like you're about ready to jump on someone."

He visibly works hard at calming himself and a part of me was expecting him to take up the lotus-position.

"I think I'm gonna go grab a work out, Jubes, I'll see ya after breakfast, huh?"

Thinking this was going to just be weird male behavior that I was just going to have to deal with, I shrugged and leaned towards him for a kiss.

And found myself tackled onto the mattress. Literally tackled. I don't know **how** one person who's laying on a bed can gain the leverage to **tackle **the other person half-laying next to him, but Logan did.

He descended on me with a thrilling savagery that chased out every thought in my freshly-woken brain leaving only some of the basest instincts in it's wake. And it all boiled down to need. Raw, pure need.

And this **need** went very nicely with the sound of my old t-shirt ripping right down the middle, exposing my bare skin for half a second before Logan attacked my breasts and sensitive tummy with wonderfully rough caresses, followed by a delightfully hot, wet tongue trailing further south.

"Oh, God..." I moaned out rather than said.

I felt Logan's weight shift on the bed, as he picked himself up off of me and backed away, leaving me to stifle the sharp jab of disappoint that stabbed through me as powerful as the pleasure had been before this.

I force myself to take a few calming breaths, before turning to face him, still sprawled across the bed in all my disheveled, half-naked glory.

"Wow...is that how you're going to warm up for workouts from now on? Cause that could get awkward outside the bedroom." I grin hugely at him, wanting him to know just how pleased I was that he had lost his control with me for a moment there.

He frowns darkly, clearly still in the grips of desire as he runs his eyes up and down my body, ignoring my attempt at joviality .

"Sorry," he grounds out with a growl.

I reach for a half-full water glass on the nightstand and promptly chuck it at him with accuracy. Most of the water ends up in his startled face as the plastic glass bounces harmlessly off his perfect chest.

I sit up on the bed while removing what was left of my shirt, enjoying the shocked look on Wolverine's face.

"So," I adopt my very best business tone. "Every time you apologize for doing wonderful things to me, I throw something at you. Every time you jump me and then feel guilty for it, I throw something at you. Every time you toss out some lame-ass excuse so you can get your manly-driven needs away from me, **I throw something at you**." At this point, I've stood up and walked towards him and, judging by the strained expression on his face, I'm thinking I should maybe have delivered these newly-formed rules with a shirt on instead of topless.

Whoops.

I stand just out of reach, waiting for him to respond. Finally, he cracks a small smile.

"Jubilee..."

"Look, Logan. This problem isn't going to go away until...we...have sex for the first time." I mentally pat myself on the back for saying it out loud, thinking about all those idiotic parental proverbs about how if you can't say the words, then you shouldn't be doing it. "And in the mean time...you want to, I want to, we both want to...it's just..." I falter, because when the hell did I suddenly become the expert to this side of our relationship?

Logan reaches out his strong hands, running them down my arms.

"It just got more complicated, sweetheart."

He pulls me against him, which makes my heart speed back up and feels illicitly wonderful at the same time, but I focus on the seriousness of the conversation.

"I don't want you to feel guilty for wanting me and then acting on it. Have I ever freaked out on you before? Have I **ever** reacted badly to something we've done together?"

"No, but we've--"

"Barely done anything, I know, but that's just my point. We've barely come close to crossing certain lines and you jump up off me like I've suddenly developed a plague that gets through your healing factor or something." I did **not** mean for that to come out how it just did, but it did go a long way in letting him know just how upsetting that could be for me. I felt awful over his guilt-ridden expression though.

He pulls me against him tighter.

"Christ, Jubilation, I'm **sorry.** It's just that the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you--I couldn't stand it if I did."

"I know, I know--we've just got to get passed this...part, Logan." I run my hands up his chest to his face, wanting to pull him even closer to me, wanting this huge problem that lay between us to just disappear...or rather finally come to a head.

He responds by pulling me in closer and then he starts kissing me again and I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that I love him desperately and just as desperately want our relationship to reach the point where we no longer have to walk on eggshells for fear of pushing me passed my comfort zone or pushing him passed his control. He walks us back to the bed, never ceasing his attack on my mouth and before I have a chance to pull him down on top of me, he twists us so that he can sit down and then pull me into his lap.

I don't care how freaking girly or needy it may sound, but dammit I **love** how this man can wrap his arms around me and just hold me. It's perfection. Odd how he's all muscle and adamantium and a growling, dangerous weapon. Because at times like this, it's almost as if he's built to be the perfect hugger. But I would never tell him that.

He finally breaks the kiss, affectionately brushing my unruly bed-bangs out of my eyes.

"So now what do you wanna do, Jubilee?" He follows this question up with what I'm sure he meant to be an earnest look, but I swear to God, it almost looked like he was trying to give me puppy dog eyes.

"What are we talkin' about here? Timeline? For sex? That just sounds...weird."

"Weirder things have been done, darlin."

I sigh.

"Well, at the end of this week is the funeral. And then in two weeks, school starts..." Just the thought of moving out of the mansion and away from him was enough to fill me with a slight panic.

"I don't want you to worry about leaving for classes, Jubilee. We've gone without seeing each other every day before, we'll be fine this time too."

My face is enough to tell him that I don't necessarily think that would be the case at all to which he capitulates.

"Okay, I'll come into the city every day to see you."

I smile followed by a classic eye roll. "Uh-huh. And you're going to go beat the shit out of bad guys and save the world when?"

"I've been doin' that forever for now. I can take a hiatus."

I scoff-giggle at this. That's right. I combined them.

"Wow, I love you too, Wolvie, I do, but I don't think I ever really wanna see how temperamental and antsy you might get if you don't go balls out at least once a week in combat. College isn't always the best place for that. Except for recently."

"Alright. Then we'll play it by ear. Anytime you want me there, let me know, and I'll show up."

"Why do I feel like I'm the only one preparing for reality? I mean, what happens when we go a few days without seeing each other and then you end up on this mission that suddenly teleports you into outer space and then it takes you weeks or even months to get home? Because that totally happens!"

"Look, Jubes--"

"Logan, I appreciate the hell out of you trying so hard. I do. I'm just saying that if something like that happens I'll be upset, of course, but I will understand. And I'm not looking forward to being away from you **at all**."

"And it would just figure if that happened right after our first time together." He says, leaning into nuzzle my neck.

"X-Men baggage. **Ugh**," I say succinctly.

"So where does that leave us?" He asks, running his hand up and down my back.

"I'm the one to decide?"

"You bet your cute little ass you are, Jubilation."

I grin despite myself. "You think my ass is cute?"

"I think all of you is cute." He starts kissing my neck. "All of you is beautiful..." Proceeds down my collarbone... "All of you is..." Then down to my breast and I have no idea if he managed to finish that sentence and I don't freaking care. He leans back onto the bed, allowing me to straddle him as he continues to lavish affection on me in ways that were delightfully new.

After that, our conversation deteriorated completely as I threw caution to the wind and trusted Logan to lead the way...so to speak...for the rest of the morning.


	20. Chapter 20

"Oh my _God_! You have post-orgasm face!" Lex turned that last word into a squeal.

"What?!"

"You have--"

"I heard you the first freaking time! What makes you think I have...y'know..." The hall is really not my first option for this particular conversation, and for the love of all the spandex-looking kevlar in the world **how does she know that?**

"Oh, darling, I've never seen you so happy and out of it and and satiated at the same bloody time. Trust me. I **know**."

Apparently.

"That's creepy," I frown, giving my friend an accusatory look.

"Oh, don't go judging me, luv. You've had virgin face since I've known you, and I know you very well. And I know this look because I'm familiar with it as well as familiar with you."

"See it in the mirror often?"

She grins so brightly her yellow eyes flare with power. "Every change I get."

"My god, you are--"

"A testimony to feminine sexual prowess?"

"I was going to just go with 'so freaking randy' but I like yours better."

"Never apologize for it and always embrace it. Now! **Details..."** She grabs my hand and ducks into the nearest closed door.

Mistake.

I was too distracted to pay attention to my surroundings, and Lex, who is most unfortunately unfamiliar with the mansion's layout, had no idea that this was Scott's study. And, **of course**, on top of this being his study with said fearless leader in it, there seemed to be a team meeting of the X-Men leadership going on.

Suddenly, the hall looks like the perfect place for the very private conversation of my orgasmic, boyfriend-filled morning.

"Oh bollocks! Sorry all! So sorry! Just...er...needed a private moment..."

Scott, Emma, Hank and Storm all stare at us, startled, and I suddenly feel like I have the words "post-orgasm" stamped on my forehead. And, oh God, maybe Lex isn't the only one who can see it. This irrational fear rises exponentially as I see Emma's face lighten too-interestingly on Lex and realize that Lex has no where **near **the mental shields the rest of us do and is probably broadcasting so loudly that **non**-telepaths could pick her up.

I contemplate homicidal thoughts towards my roommate as I realize I have to salvage the situation as she's still blubbering.

"Sorry to interrupt, guys!" I pull Lex backwards. "Please carry on!"

"Okay," Lex breathes out as we once again find ourselves in the hall. "Let's try elsewhere, shall we?"

I dig my heels in.

"Hang on there, girlfriend."

"What?"

"Look, Lex, you know I'm not really the share the moment type, and--"

"Shut it, Jubes." She drags me a few doors down, knocks because she's the type that learns from past mistakes, and then pulls me into the library which is blessedly empty.

She backs me into a corner and her previously delighted face is strangely serious.

"You didn't have sex, eh?"

"Well it depends on your definition..."

"You know what I mean. You still have the final hurdle. But you're getting there. And you look happy."

"So this is an emotional check up instead of wanton girly talk."

"My girly talk is never wanton. And...yes."

I let out a resigned sigh and suspect my face has returned to normal instead of flushed and super happy.

"I know, luv. And I'm sorry. But you love me because I never duck the hard questions."

I give her a small smile of friendly affection. "The question isn't really that hard. No, we did not have sex in the traditional sense. But what happened was...perfect."

I think back to this morning and how my nervousness was quickly erased by Logan's delightfully experienced hands, still stunned by how easy it was for me to trust, him not just because of my past, but because I was also new to the physical experience of being with him, or any man.

"Well, considering that man's experience, it had bloody well **better** been perfection. You have **no** idea the number of boys I had to wade through before I found perfection."

"Poor you," I grin at her.

"Damn right, poor me."

"So who was your first perfect experience?"

"Ironically enough? **Professor** Logan."

I burst into a fit of laughter. I can't help it. She did **not **just say that, did she? "**What?!"**

"I shit you not. Professor David Logan in London. PhD. He taught Shakespeare. I was eighteen and a freshman. And he was very suave and debonair for forty-five."

"Forty-five? Wow."

"Please. You're man's supposed to be over a hundred. And looks like he's in his early forties or so." She scrunches up her eyes in thought. "Late thirties, maybe."

"Touche. And seriously? I will never judge you for going after the experienced because **damn. **Triple damn."

"Triple, eh?"

I duck my head knowing she was fishing. And grin impishly. "Maybe more."

"Ha! Wicked!"

****

That afternoon Logan went into town to take care of...Logan things...and I was largely left to my own devices. What are "Logan things" you ask? Well, I mostly steer clear. But when you've been around as long as that man has, things tend to pile up. And he gets this look of supreme impatience and consternation, goes off to deal with certain aspects that I'm fairly certain involve old acquaintances, businesses, and accounts, and is gone for hours.

So I was left to myself, bored, moody, and stressing about the immediate future. So I ransacked my room in an effort to prepare for college packing, all the while working myself into a paranoid fury thinking about leaving him to go back to school. I had just finished sorting out most of my clothing so that I could leave the majority of my winter wardrobe in storage and moved onto books and posters. When exactly had I gotten around to collecting so many movie posters, anyway? Why does that always become such a college epidemic? Well this time, Lex and I were moving into a nicer more legitimate apartment--that was owned by Emma Frost no less--and I immediately resolved to graduate on up to actual wall art with real glass and tasteful frames. And then also thought about how that was more of a hazard if a nearby explosion blows through your living space. Ugh. See how your though-process works when you're a superhero?

So there I was, surrounded by the controlled chaos that was my room and my belongings, contemplating wall art and explosions when there was a light knock on my door. Expecting either Wolvie or Lex, I said come in without even looking up.

"Do you realize I don't own any real paintings or pictures? I feel so undistinguished."

"Emma might have some suggestions if distinguished is what you're going for."

I spun around, utterly startled to face none other than Scott Summers himself, paying a social call to my room. Shocked doesn't quite cover my reaction to this one.

"Uhhhmmm. Hey, dude."

"Hey, Jubilee." He stood in his "relaxed pose" wearing his "relaxed clothing". Perfectly pressed khaki slacks with a maroon polo shirt that made him look like a catalogue model. I suddenly tried to picture Emma ironing her man's pants in her white corset and almost choked on my own spit.

"Yeah, I'm not totally sure Emma's taste in art is what I'm looking for..."

"Just saying..."

"K. So. Can I help you with something...?" Like maybe help you find the **real** room you're looking for?

"Actually, I wanted a word." He's still all stoic and super businesslike despite the polo and the effect is really quite hilarious as he walked into my chaotic mess and suddenly looks like he's having a very hard time trying to figure out how to navigate my room without stepping on my underwear. I mean really, any lecture just loses its affect when you have lacy, naughty things right under your loafers.

Finally, he decided to maintain his position right in front of my door and after a few awkward seconds, decided to shut it because he either deemed privacy necessary, or didn't want someone to walk by and see him hanging out in my panties.

"Okay, then." I stifle a sigh of reservation. And an eye roll. And possibly a sneer. "Word away, dude."

"Going back to college in what? Two weeks or so?"

"Yep. Two weeks. Give or take."

"And you're already packing?"

"Try not too sound **too** impressed, Scott." He was the original Mr. Initiative. At thirteen, I would have invented procrastination if I hadn't been too busy putting it off.

"Sorry. Excited for the semester to start?"

"You mean for my social life to dry up as I stay up all hours of the night staring at math problems until I think my eyeballs might fall out? Ecstatic."

"Lex sounds like college is the best thing that happened to her."

I grin despite myself thinking of her perfect Professor Logan.

"Yeah, well, that's Lex. And, of course, I exaggerate. It's a lotta fun sometimes. When peaceful mutant meetings aren't being brutally attacked."

I look back up at him, studying his polo. Try to picture him with his hair stylishly mussed and with his collar popped. In a perfect, peaceful world, he would have been primo frat boy material back in the day.

"Ever wish you would have gone? Done the 'normal' thing for once in your life?"

"More times than I could count, Jubilee."

I look back up at his serious face. I know he smiles; I've seen him do it before. But he does it less and less.

"Yeah, well, it's hard to be there sometimes. Pretend that I'm less than I am. Pretend I don't what it's like to have faced super-villains and aliens and that I don't know how to fly an advanced super-jet or know any basic battle tactics."

"You know how to fly the Blackbird?"

"Of **course.** Logan taught me years ago."

"I never...authorized that." You could tell by the tone of his voice that he knew how futile such a stance had been in the past. And that it clearly was useless to argue now.

"Yeah, well, it scared the crap outta me, but he knew I could do it when nobody else would have thought so. And you never know when you're going to be forced to take over the wheel cause someone has to go outside and fight Sabertooth on the wing. It was a practicality sort of thing."

"Well, I'm not one to argue with practicality."

"So, yeah, I'm going back to school soon. Can't really clock more Danger Room time like Wolvie told me you wanted."

"I figured. But there's time yet for that, Jubilee. You've worked hard to get where you are. You should see it through til the end. The X-men aren't going anywhere." That spiel couldn't have been more run of the mill bullshit if he tried. I'm starting to get a bad feeling about what he really came to talk to me about.

I smile slightly. "Yeah, coming back to fight sentinels over break goes real well with that Christmas ham. It's good to go home. And the sad thing? I **really** do mean that it's good to go home."

There it is. The ever-allusive Summers smile. I resisted the urge to throw up a few celebratory fireworks.

"Trust me, I know exactly what you mean."

"So. I'm going back to school. Won't be running with you guys as much. You expected all that. What's you're reason for dropping by?"

His stoic expression loses even more emotion if you can believe that. My dread grows.

"Do you realize how much you have going for you? How much potential you have?"

Oh, **Gawd**. I knew it. I freaking, knew it. There was just no way in hell he was going leave well enough alone. I guess after all the years of butting heads with Wolverine, Scott figured bypassing him and just coming to me with what looks to be like his "reasonable approach" he thinks he might actually get somewhere.

"Well, let's see. I'm a badass X-men these days, and you approve of that. My powers are still growing and you approve of that. I'm going to school and doing well at it and you approve of that. So, really, you're here to talk about Logan, ain'tchya?"

"Yeah, Jubilee, I am." Two points for not ducking the question.

"So how is this really going to go? Are you just going to deliver your lecture and not really care about what I have to say on the subject, or are you actually willing to listen, or better yet, are you maybe going to change you're mind and butt the hell out because you've had this stunning realization of, oh my God, this is just **none** of my business and I should **really** keep my damn opinions to myself?"

He doesn't seem at all phased by my reaction to his intended lecturing topic. In fact, he actually looks like he's maybe considering the options I've just laid out for him.

"Look, Jubilee. I don't pretend to be your parent."

"That's for damn sure."

"And I admit that as far as parental roles go...the X-Men really fell short with you. You were an orphan, we took you in, but we never really worked at giving you guidance outside of being a student, a mutant, and an X-men."

"Look, you don't have to go down that road, Scott. Growing up at Xavier's always involves bizarre and complicated situations. The Professor took **you** in as an orphan too, but it's not like he legally adopted you."

"True, but we are family, and we could have done more for you."

Ugh. I **hate** these kinds of guilt-ridden, apologetic conversations. They make me feel **so** uncomfortable. Mostly because it's true too. I really got the short end of the stick on **more** than one occasion with the X-men. And I felt the rejection and abandonment more than once. And he doesn't even have the full story like Logan and Emma do. But, whatever, I was hardly the only one who's had a rough time, and I came out the other side stronger for it.

However, the way he's going about this is really just pissing me off.

"Yeah, you're right. You and the others absolutely could have done more for me when I was younger. But you didn't. But apparently it's all fine and dandy and not worth a conversation until I'm suddenly doing something you disapprove of, huh, Scotty? But now I've made the mistake of dating Logan, and now suddenly you feel responsible and apologetic for not raising me right in the first place?"

"I don't...mean it...exactly like that, Jubilee." He's crossed his arms over his chest, clearly not happy with how the conversation is going.

"Then **how exactly** do you mean it?"

"Alright. Fine. He's too old for you, it's inappropriate, his track record with women is down right frightening, and he could very well wreck your life and all you've worked so hard to accomplish. You deserve better than him. And, I think, that in the end, you'll regret it."

I clench my jaw against the anger growing within me and resist the urge to blow up verbally as well as literally. My room and all my belongings already got burnt to oblivion in a fire once, and really, that was enough for me. But if anyone deserved to get paffed in the ass, it was Scott Summers at that moment.

"Okay." Swallow. Restraint, restraint, restraint. Beat him at his own game. "Those points are all fair enough, I guess. So. One. He's older than me. It can't really be helped, it is what it is. But our personalities always meshed together surprisingly well, even when I was younger, and it only got better over the years. And, quite frankly, guys my age just don't work for me. I'm young, but I'm **ages** older than normal college guys. It's too hard to seriously date a guy who doesn't know what it's like to grow up both a mutant **and** an X-Man, Scott. I'm not going to settle for some jerkwad who's just never, ever gonna **get me**. And I've never really hit it off with the younger X-guys, and they're a limited stock. Two. Inappropriate? Well, I guess Logan and I are **hardly** the ones to argue what is or isn't appropriate with you of all people Mr. I Telepathically Cheated On My Wife With the White Slut of The Corset Club. But, life's too short to worry about **propriety** when you could get crucified and **die** at any second and you bypass what actually makes you happy in this fucked up, hate-filled, bad guy-ridden world**. **Three. My track record with dating is even worse than Logan's if you can believe that, and I'm **only **twenty. Four. Any relationship can wreck a person. No offense, dude, but look at you for cryin' out loud. And finally? I decide what I deserve and don't deserve."

See? I handled it like a pro. I rock. And now my mouth is dry and I need a drink of water.

Scott's just standing there, looking for all the world like I might have been talking about something as benign and irrelevant as describing to him my organizational method when it came to college packing. I honestly don't know how Jean and Emma ever dated this man. The lack of response would drive me crazy. Well, two can play it that game. I school my face into a blase I Couldn't Care Less About the Conversation expression and stare him down.

"Well. Those points are all fair enough."

"That's it?"

"I never thought I was going to talk you out of it, Jubilee. I guess I was just looking to understand it a little better, because you're right, I don't approve. Emma, oddly enough, thinks you two are very well matched."

"And now?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Let us know when you need help carrying boxes downstairs. With all of us it shouldn't take more than one trip."

Huh.

"Um. Ok. Cool."

Satisfied with this bizarre end to the conversation, Scott turns to leave my room, opening the door to reveal the ominous if somewhat vertically challenged figure of my boyfriend standing just outside.

"Hey, Logan." Scott sounds like he just happened to run into him at the office water cooler.

"Hey, Scott." Logan's glowering, but his voice is remarkably un-growly.

Scott walks passed Logan, leaving us alone. Logan comes in and shuts the door behind him and I suddenly feel like this is some sort of peculiar deja vu.

"How long were you standing outside?"

"Pretty much since he walked into yer room. I just got back and saw him come up here."

"So was that weird or was it just me?"

"It wasn't just you, darlin'. But he has changed over the years. Way to call him out on some of his bullshit, Jubes."

"Thanks. I guess." I sit down on my bed, suddenly wishing I had never started packing because I no longer wanted to deal with all my stuff strewn across the floor.

He comes over and sits next to me, his metal-heavy weight sinking into the mattress so that my body leans in towards him. I lay my head on his shoulder and breath in the wind-swept, motorcycle scent of him.

"How was your stuff?"

"Fine. How's your packing?"

"Ugh."

He puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes.

"So what exactly did you mean about your track record being worse than mine, darlin'?"

"Well, I liked Ev. But he liked super-barbie. Monet," I clarify, realizing that Logan never knew her that well. "And then he got shot in the head. And then I was raped. And then Angelo liked me, but I was nowhere near ready, and then he got crucified. And then there was this guy named Derek my freshman year. And after two dates I decided he was a whiney little brat and dumped him. At least you actually got around to having a relationship or two, Logan. I never even managed that." God, I hope I'm not coming off as petulant right now.

"I mean, it's nice to know that you're not going to die on me and that you're light years away from being a whiney little brat."

He chuckles darkly. "Well, I've been accused of bein' a lotta shit, Jubes. Whiney and bratty was never one of 'em."

I grin. "Thank god for that."

He leans in to kiss me and I happily forget about packing.


	21. Chapter 21

**Holy crap, it's a bloody miracle I was able to post this tonight. My entire house has turned into a technological dead zone. Even the microwave is dead. Okay, total filler, I admit, but more is on it's way soon:)**

**Thanks for your patience!!**

As funerals go, the collective ceremony for the mutants lost in what is now commonly being referred to as the Empire State Mutant Terrorist Attack was, quite simply, beautiful. However, all the heart-touching, floral and inspiring beauty in the world was still not enough to stifle the collective simmering anger the X-men felt towards the media for their misrepresentation of the event. Their reporting about the facts was sparse at best. The only positive thing that could be said about the whole affair is that they did **not** take it upon themselves to embellish against us like they continuously do with Spiderman for instance. Poor guy. Can't catch a break.

But, they dubbed the horrendous affair as a "Mutant Terrorist Attack" which allows far too many people to believe that this was a mutant attack **on** Empire State instead of **mutants getting attacked while being at Empire. **Big difference. Huge. Monumental. Emma took it upon herself to arrange a press briefing just before the private funeral to clarify the situation and also, in her signature, and supreme back-talking way, ream the press for their mistake while not making it look like she was being overly accusatory. The woman has mad skills. Although I think the apology on behalf of papers and newscasters wasn't totally their idea...it may or may not have been planted in their head and then telepathically nudged along.

I, for one, am keeping my opinions to myself about the round of apologies.

Proceeding the funeral, all the family, friends, students, teachers, and mutant sympathizers took to the streets in our unique form of a walking candle-lit vigil. Which is to say, plenty of people had candles, but any mutant with the ability to glow, or create some sort of light was honoring his or her ability to do so. I didn't think fireworks were all that appropriate and created colorful balls of plasma that floated above my head, drifting around in lazy patterns, that would form into splendid bouquets of light when I had the chance to concentrate on them.

Lex looked like a walking torch. Her beautiful red hair shined like a beacon as bright yellow plasma lit up her eyes and her hands, making it difficult to look directly at her. Every once in a while she'd shoot up into the air, flying around the procession a few times, before honing in on my plasma spheres and landing next to me again.

"What kind of flower is that suppose to be?" she asked looking up at my overly bright red and green creation. We were all a little antsy, half-expecting there to be an attack at some point down the road; I envied Lex her ability to fly around at her own whim to burn energy and scope the area out.

"No idea. I saw it once in the Savage Land so I'm guessing something prehistoric."

"It's brilliant, Jubilee."

"Thanks." I let the flowers dissipate and brought new plasma balls into creation, working hard at maintaining a lighter color than my usual hot pink. Trying for a dusty rose. Concentrate on forming an entire bouquet out of them. Tears fill my eyes at the sight and I reach my hand out to Logan. He squeezes back comfortingly.

"Thanks for coming with, Wolvie."

"Wouldn't be anywhere else, darlin'."

I smile acceptingly at this white lie of his. I can tell he's itching to be on the rooftops with the team of X-men at combat readiness, patrolling the area. But, Nightcrawler's on strict orders to immediately 'port in and retrieve Wolverine for any action that may go down. And by strict orders, I mean Logan hunted him down and made him swear on a bible practically at claw-point. Kurt, of course, didn't need that much convincing, but we all know how intense Logan can get when he feels strongly about something. I, on the other hand, was under strict orders to **not** rush into battle if something happened by Emma. I was to stay with the crowds and do my best to protect the civilians.

"Right. You kind of look like you want to use your candle to light a cigar or something."

He gives me a chagrined look. "Sorry...I'm just--"

"Antsy. I know. Trust me."

"Yeah, darlin'."

"So...getting any, I don't know, sinister scents or bad feelings?" I swear, even if he can't smell it coming for him, Logan has a bizarre and inane ability to sense danger before it hits.

"Nah. Not really. Just...wish it was over so we'd know fer sure. I hate this waitin'..."

"One more block and we're done, mates." Lex comments over my head, forcing the both of us to look up at her.

"And just how are those new heeled boots of yours holding up, girl?"

"Ugh, why do you think I'm flying around so much besides checking the bloody perimeter? At least I have a boyfriend who can ice my poor, aching, and probably blistered feet no problem when this is all over."

"Oh. My. God. You did NOT just say the b-word, **did you?**" My plasma dissipates in total shock. Logan may just have to carry me out of here.

"Did I say it to you? Yes. However, if you repeat it, I swear to God I'll fly you into the bloody sun, Jubilation Lee."

"Logan heard it too and he's un-killable."

"Logan is not known for being talkative, especially with the Iceman. If he **does** feel unusually talkative he only ever blabs to **you.** Am I right, short, hairy, and handsome?"

Totally ignoring the actual point to this conversation, Logan replies with, "Y'know? Flyin' me in to the sun, **will** actually kill me."

Before the conversation could deteriorate into utter morbidity, Rogue soared in, every bit the professional superhero and the crowd gasped in appreciation. The X-Men were known here.

"Well, y'all, we made it. The Blackbird's parked right around the corner on the roof of the red-bricked buildin'. Climb on up after sayin' your good-byes and we'll head on home."

Rogue singled me out for a quick sisterly hug, then took flight again.

I turned to Logan.

"See, darlin'? All turned out alright in the end."

"Today did, Logan. If all really had turned out alright, we wouldn't have been here in the first place."

A sense of closure emanated from the post-funeral mansion gathering that night. We weren't exactly cheerful by any means, but there was a strong sense of family and friendship--to say nothing of **relief**--as we all gathered in the rec room with drinks of alcoholic persuasion and snacks to watch the recorded news coverage.

I curled up next to Wolvie with a rare glass of red wine in my hand and for once listened to the rest of the team chat quietly around us instead of making my opinions known up one side and down the other. I think everyone else was genuinely glad that this tragedy for once had some distance to it and allowed us to take a secondary role for once. Too often the X-men pay for being on the front lines and funerals are held on the front lawn instead of at a public venue with hundreds of strangers.

This one was still too personal for me though.

Lex startled me from my reverie.

"Y'know, Jubes. I think it's important that we try and make sure those mutant meeting on campus continue. Show those tossers that we weren't beat down by them. Make sure those kids didn't die in vain." Those "kids" were around our age, even a little older; being with the X-men had aged Lex beyond her years just like it had me.

"I could get behind that." I turn to Storm, thinking she'd be especially suited for this. "Y'know, a little X-men sponsorship at first couldn't hurt either. One or two of you guys coming every once in a while for some extra protection and inspiration might go a long way."

"You need but ask and I'll do my best to attend, Jubilee. I think it is very admirable of you girls to continue such gatherings."

I smiled warmly, pleased by her response. Strictly speaking, Ororo's been a little stand-offish and extra regal around me...and Logan. Personally, I think she's in the Quietly Disapproving Camp of X-men where we're concerned.

"Awesome, Storm. You're the best." Ass-kissing never killed anybody.

"Count me in for sure. I'll be there a lot anyways." This from Bobby, who was, indeed, giving Lex a much-needed foot rub.

I turn to Logan. He simply responds with, "Just so long as I'm labeled under 'protection' and not 'inspiration'."

"Excellent," Lex's eyes flashed in satisfaction. "I can get Professor Trent in on this too. Make it sociology-based. The school could use more practical information about mutants incorporated into all the Soc classes anyway."

Lex loves a good academic project. I was thinking I'd end up having to sneak my physics homework in to the meetings just to keep up. I'm not the best extracurricular activity type. If I have an extra second it gets eaten up by X-men missions and occasionally just regular mansion drama. I.E. Rogue calls me up for an emergency girls-only shopping outing cause she just had a fight with Remy and I drop everything and come running.

And now there's Logan. Imagine the distracting possibilities **now**.

I down the rest of my wine and snuggle closer into Wolverine.


	22. Chapter 22

"Not on the roof this time, Jubes?"

"It was occupied."

"Yeah...although Gambit actually had some company this time."

"Walked in on it too, huh?"

His teeth gleamed a predatory white as he grinned in the darkness.

"Brazen of them to go at it on the roof." He wraps himself around me and I snuggle my back into his chest.

"I'd be worried about rolling off."

"Helps when your partner can fly," he observes.

As isolating and peaceful as the roof can be--during normal mansion circumstances at least, an amorous Rogue and Remy notwithstanding--the dock is still my favorite. Something about the gentle lapping sounds of water fills the silence up in a comforting sort of way. To my dense nose at least, the typical human smells of the mansion give way to the natural loamy earth and the forest that surrounds the majority of the lake. Being here with Logan always feels more natural than not.

An unseasonal, gusty wind picked up off the lake, making me glad for Logan's warm presence.

"It's so beautiful out here."

"Ya think?"

"Don't you?"

"It's nice enough...although you really want ta see somethin' that'll take your breath away, you'll have to not mind roughin' it a bit."

I nuzzle his beard.

"Logan...no offense...but your definition for 'roughing it' is not always something that is commonly accepted."

"I meant roughin' it for **you."**

"What, you think I'm incapable of living without a few amenities every once in a while, bub?" I grimace in annoyance. I think I've earned the chance to be thought of as someone who has more grit than most.

A stronger gust of wind rushes across the land and an ominous rumble rolls through the sky.

"What the hell?" I frown accusingly at the sky.

Logan's nostrils flare, tasting the winds as it blew past us and he quickly shifted into a protective crouch, placing himself between me, and well, the direction the thunderstorm was gathering. Which was directly over the mansion.

"Oh, no..."

After several tense moments, the thunder faded into the distance and a steady rain began to fall, cool and fresh.

"What is Storm doing, Logan?"

He waits, not answering me, like he's listening for something or maybe even to something. After a moment more, I'm effectively drenched and Logan relaxes, starting to chuckle.

"What? What is it?"

"Roro didn't appreciate the view outside her bedroom window."

"Huh?"

"Gambit and Rogue," he clarifies.

"Gambit and Rogue? You mean..." I start to giggle appreciatively. "Better'n a garden hose, huh? Man, wish I could have seen it. I wish I could recruit her for some practical jokes everyone once in a while too."

"The French expletives are makin' it all the way out to here."

Still grinning, he reaches out to me and tucks me into his side. If he's trying to protect me from getting wet, then he's failing miserably. I smile despite myself.

"Too bad they're not the only ones out here." I imagine this would be much funnier from the security of my bedroom rather than several hundred feet away from the nearest cover. I'm only in a tank top and some comfy yellow terry cloth shorts. Great for sleeping, putting on over a bathing suit, and enjoying a very warm summer night. Not at all fit for one of Ororo's full on thunder storms.

"Aw, it ain't that bad, darlin'."

He pulls me in closer to his super warm body--and of course it's not that bad for him. Logan's so hot, he'd literally steam in a cold shower. And I don't mean that as a My Boyfriend Has a Hot Bod joke. I mean it takes freaking Antarctica before Wolvie gets a real chill going on. For me, SoCal never truly left my blood and nothing makes it clearer than just the littlest bit of cold breeze during the summer.

"C'mon. Let's go back inside." He leans in to kiss me--and we're both stunned by the unbidden spark that flares to life between us.

I look up at him, startled, almost like this was the first time we'd ever kissed. Something about this just felt new. Almost different.

"Inside...would be..." wow, I never even managed to finish that sentence.

Logan hugged me so vigorously he lifted me right up off my feet and with very, very little effort swung me into his arms so he was cradling me and I was effectively at his mercy. At first, I thought he was carrying me to the mansion, but I was too damn busy kissing him like it was the end of the world to register anything going on around me. The mansion, however, was not his destination of choice; he carried me into the woods, seeking cover under a particularly large and branchy tree.

It should be commented on just how damn wonderful this man kisses, because I didn't even care that I wasn't taken into the warmth and comfort of inside. I also didn't care when I found myself on the wet, but soft and grassy forest floor with his powerful and immovable weight on top of me. In fact, it thrilled me to the core--right down to my polished-pink toe nails to be exact. And when his heated and calloused hands ran all over my body and under my clothes against my wet skin, removing the soaked clothing and freeing me, I would gladly have slept outside for the rest of my life if it only meant he didn't stop.

And he didn't. Not this time.

What followed was a desperate, feverish flurry of movement as weeks, months, even years of longing and needing finally came to a wet and rainy and passionate culmination. Every rough and wonderful caress was perfect, every brush of his tongue or teeth or beard against my skin sent my head spinning. Every flex or strain of powerful muscle under my hands and teeth and fingernails made me want to cry from satisfaction alone. I wrapped my body around him, arms and legs holding tight, endeavoring to feel every inch of his skin against every inch of mine.

He bit down on my neck again as he claimed me and I swear, I'd never felt so complete in my entire life.

****

He tried to look apologetic, but really it just came off as satiated. And ecstatically happy. For him. Which is most definitely saying something monumental. I mean, who would **ever** imagine such an emotion on the Wolverine? It makes me shiver in delight.

"I didn't really...intend...for that to happen like that, Jubilation."

I usually dislike my full name, but he says it like a benediction. He cried it out as he came and now I fully intend my full name to get a regular work out in the near future. Now, just hearing it in passing--or post passion--makes my tummy tighten and my hands want to light up the dark sky.

"I know I'm new at this and everything, but what exactly were you intending if not that?"

"I meant...y'know...out of nowhere. There was a strategy...a plan...at one point," he says, unusually disconcerted, despite his happiness. "Something that didn't involve on the ground."

My chuckle is deep and throaty. "Yeah...you goin' at it all wild in the woods. Who would have expected **that**?"

He reached down lightning quick to deliver a spank to my bare ass. "Brat."

"It's a profession."

I wriggle around, realizing that now that I'm not utterly distracted, the ground is not nearly as brilliant as it was just a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago, it was the single most wonderful place in the multiverse. Now, I'm realizing there's twigs poking my butt,and grass plastered all over my skin, and, yep, definitely a decent amount of mud since there was a freaking thunderstorm. I'm suddenly jonesing for a shower in the worst sort of way. Maybe Logan had a point about the whole me roughing it scenario.

"Y'know...you keep grinding against me like that..."

"Oh, nuh-huh," I say with emphasis because **really,** if I stop to think about it too long I could be convinced to stay out here much, much longer. "It's getting cold--and I think I may be having an allergic reaction to the grass." My back is really starting to itch.

"Alright, kid. Hot shower sound good?" Logan starts reaching around for our discarded, muddy, and drenched clothing. We're going to make quite the sight if anyone is going to still be awake to witness our return.

"Depends. Will you be joining me?" I'm not at all tired. I am bursting with a delightful sort of energy. That I'm blaming Wolverine for one hundred percent. It's way more intense than a sugar high.

Logan's warmth leaves me as he makes an effort to collect our clothes, reaffirming my decision to seek indoors. I reach my hand out to accept Logan's offering.

"This is your shirt, Wolvie."

"Yeah...yours doesn't exactly meet the criteria for decency any longer, darlin'."

"Oh. Right. Forgot. How are my shorts lookin'?"

"Like they're in need of a decent burial."

Luckily, Logan's shirt has the length of a very, very short dress on me.

With much giggling on my part and predatory grinning on Wolverine's, we managed to cover the essentials and make our way for the mansion.

"So what exactly was your strategy or whatever you wanna call it?"

"Huh?"

"Y'know. For wooing me."

His hand is warm and strong in mine and it seems a strangely intimate contact even though we're touching so benignly.

"**Wooing** you, huh? Not sure that word ever made it into the equation."

"Too macho for it?"

"By far. Who do you think I am? Gumbo?"

I squeeze his hand.

"Ok. So what was your strategy?"

"Was gonna see if you wanted to go up to my cabin in Canada. For a getaway."

I stop abruptly.

"Really? For how long?" This idea sounds irresistibly enticing to me.

"Couple of weeks. However long we wanted."

"Roughing it?" I grin at him, remembering our earlier conversation.

"It's a lot nicer these days, Jubes."

"I think it sounds great," I say fervently.

He gets this look like he's secretly pleased that I'm so onboard with the idea.

"Yeah, well, I was worried about when we'd actually have the time with school and all."

Now that he's said it, I can't get the idea out of my head. Logan, relaxed and comfortable with me in his element. The two of us isolated from the rest of the world in the gorgeous, rugged country he loves so much with only ourselves for company. No interruptive missions, surreptitious glances of disapproval, or distractions. It sounded like heaven.

"Logan...that sounds **perfect**."

"Yeah?"

"Y'know...I have a fall break in October. Think we could go then?"

"It'll be a hell of a lot colder then, Jubes."

I press my body against his, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Promise to keep me warm?"

He smiles a smile that makes him look like a much younger man.

"Always," he answers gruffly.

"Always?"

"Absolutely."


	23. Chapter 23

**At long last the final chapter!! I know I haven't updated in forever and I'm sorry, but I hope you enjoy the ending to this story. I really, truly loved writing it. Thank you so much to everyone who followed it and reviewed. You guys are the best:) **

"Y'know, Jubilee, I have to admit that I really am impressed." I double check to make sure I'm not hallucinating, but no, I am not. That **is** Scott a.k.a. Cyclops Summers standing there next to me saying in his best leadership voice that he is impressed with one, Jubilation Lee. I pinch my arm so hard I think I bruised it.

"I know. Another strait A semester. Somedays I look in the mirror and, I swear, I don't even recognize myself anymore. Especially with these bags under my eyes."

"You do **not** have bags under your eyes. Trust me. And I wasn't actually talking about your grades, although, you're right, they're impressive, too. Actually, I was talking about you and Wolverine."

I reach down to readjust my brand new strappy high heel. They'll give me blisters for sure tonight, but they're so adorable and so perfect with my new silky black dress. And I felt that after another hard year's work put behind me, I deserved a special treat. Even if they were over two hundred. Maybe three. Meaningless details.

"Why? Cause we have a fancy evening planned? You should be impressed with Wolvie, not me. He planned the whole thing."

We're in the kitchen, Scott in his uniform, having just finished a training session with the newest batch of hapless wannabes--i.e. students--and me decked in my finest, ready for a night on the town with my boyfriend. Dinner will be fabulous for sure, but sometimes a girl needs a quick snack to tide her over. And there's a twinkie with my name on it.

"Again, that's not what I meant." Scott's replenishing his electrolytes with an ice blue gatorade. I watch him apprehensively, knowing I'm due in the Danger Room later this week and I'm really going to get my ass worked right off of me.

"Well, it should be. The man's full of surprises."

"You can say that again. I'm surprised you and Logan are still together. A year later and the two of you have one of the steadiest relationships in the mansion. Impressive. And I don't really want to think about what that might say about the rest of us."

I swallow the rest of my twinkie in shock. Scott hadn't talked about Logan to me in months. In fact, I don't think he's talked to me about Logan since before I went back to school.

"Well...um. Thanks."

I nervously fiddle with the plastic twinkie wrapper.

Cyke continues to sip his gatorade nonchalantly.

I start to feel strange and out of place.

"So..." I falter.

"Well, I should hit the showers. Have a great time!"

I sigh in relief, having been worried that Scott was about to do something even more bizarre than complimenting me on my relationship with Logan. Like offer dating advice. And this is my excuse for my verbal blunder.

"You too! In the shower. I mean--in general. I mean--Bye!"

I bolt for the exit, thoroughly disconcerted and feeling my face burn in shameful humiliation. And trip over big feet in my new shoes.

"Whoa Jubes! Where's the fire? Cause I have ice at the ready."

"God, you are **such** a dork." Suddenly finding myself on the floor does not improve my mood. "Says the girl who just tripped over her own feet." Bobby frowns at me.

"I tripped over **your** feet, thank you very much."

"And was graceful the whole way down."

He offers me a hand up.

"You know what? Bite me."

"Not his job, darlin'. Mine." Wolverine makes his way towards us in a predatory prowl that belies his stylish slacks with a button down shirt and well cut jacket.

I suppress a pout. Tripping over Bobby was most assuredly not how I wanted to make my entrance for the evening.

"Hey, Wolverine." Bobby does a double take. "Wow...you look...huh." His compliment dies in his throat, realizing that there probably isn't an acceptable one he could give that Logan would take gracefully. He defaults to me.

"And look at you, Jubes! **Damn! **I mean **wow!"** And then Bobby realizes that overzealously complimenting the Wolverine's girlfriend might not be so graciously accepted either as we're both glowering at him.

"You know what? I just--I'm just gonna..." He flails his arm in a general direction that will take him upstairs and away from us.

"Yeah, bub, you do that."

"Right." Bobby steps away from me quickly. Before he heads upstairs, he shouts back at me. "Lex'll be here day after tomorrow?" His face is boyish and hopeful.

"Yep."

"Thank God." He disappears upstairs.

I turn to my boyfriend. "Hey."

His usual grim expression softens in a way that is reserved solely for me. "Hey."

"You look...wow." Too late, I realize I just quoted Bobby. But it was true. Logan truly cut a debonair figure when he decided to put some effort into it.

"You look beautiful, Jubilation." I flush again, only for totally different reasons. I grin like a fool despite myself. Sometimes I don't think I'll ever get used to him complimenting me.

"Thanks."

"Ready to go?"

"Oh, yeah." I needed to get myself out of the mansion in an effort to restart this whole night and come off as somewhat grown up, sexy, and maybe even a tad sophisticated. Leaving the mansion with all it's hang-ups would be the key, I convinced myself. Logan offered me his arm and we made way for the garage.

Logan wrinkled his nose. "Do I smell twinkies?"

****

I was right, dinner was fabulous. The food was amazing, the service superb, the atmosphere not too over the top, and my date was, if I may say, the hottest guy in the joint. If you go for rugged--which I totally do.

"So Lex still hasn't decided which internship she wants to take. The one in D.C. would be absolutely perfect for her, if you ask me, I'm telling you the girl is perfect for politics--it's just a pity that she'll have her career across the pond instead of right here for us. But I know New York would be great and I know she's really, really attached to the city now, and it's closer to Bobby and me and all of us, so she's really leaning towards that too. And then I've got one going for me in the lab at campus, **buuut**--and this is my big, exciting news--Hank set one up for me in **his** lab. At home. For the whole summer. And if some big X-mission thing comes up there will be no lying to him about a family emergency or whatever bullshit excuse I can create."

I stop abruptly, realizing I had entered one of my non-stop talking modes. Crap.

"Sorry. I thought I told you to kick me or something when I do that."

He smiled. A full on, teeth gleaming, smug, arrogant, I'm The Man and There's Nothing You Can Do About It smile.

"Nah. Ain't polite to kick a lady--specially when she's wearin' a dress like that. Sides, I think it's cute."

I grin my own smug grin. "You think it's **cute? You?** Man o man, you **must** have it bad for me."

"It's been suggested before."

I blush again. It's been a year full of blushing. Gawd.

"So...what do you think?"

A funny, slightly panicked look overcame him.

"Uh...about which part?"

I roll my eyes, but do so with affection.

"My summer internship! With Hank! I mean, seriously, how perfect is that?"

"Ah. Yeah, why do you think I asked him if he thought he'd have some time for it?"

I stare at Wolvie in shock. "You...that was your idea?"

"Well, Beast put the whole thing together and cleared it with your school, but, yeah. I know you were stressing about how you were going to spend your summer this year, darlin'. Saw an opportunity to help. But Hank did all the work."

"Logan..."

"What? A man conspires to have his girlfriend around more often? Not like I'm a saint or somthin', Jubes. Far from it." I'd like to take this moment to note that he **still** looks smug.

**"**Yeah, well. I think it makes you a great boyfriend in my book. Really, Wolvie. This is the perfect solution for my summer and I really **was** stressing about it."

"Ya don't say." His dry tone is indicative of my hapless tendency to talk incessantly about that which worries me.

"What, think you're a comedian or somethin'?"

"You know, most people don't call me on my shit on account that they're scared of me," he grumps.

"Beginning to see where you went wrong in this relationship?" I inquire.

"I think that was foregone before we even started the relationship."

I smile as Logan reaches across the table for my hand.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you've lost the power to intimidate me," I grin. "Y'know, I don't really think that's a secret anymore either," he states.

"Well, then maybe I should work on my badass image so it doesn't look so bad for you that cute lil' me isn't afraid of you."

"Then we have our work cut out for us." His grin takes on an evil teasing flavor.

"Mock me at your peril, short, muscular hairy one. I know where you sleep."

"You knowing where I sleep is definitely where I went right in this relationship--don't make me regret it." His grin, however, is an open challenge to trying to find away to get the better of him. Every time I've tried ended up with me irrefutably pinned in some new, compromising, and in the end, quite delightful way by Wolverine. I turn pink again and lose the thread of conversation.

"Anyway, I'm glad Hank was able to work something out for ya, darlin, really, I am."

I lean across the table to deposit a quick kiss on his unnaturally smooth cheek. He shaves like once a year and chose tonight for this year.

"Me too. I missed you a lot when I was in school." I try not to make a big deal--the longest we'd gone without seeing each other was three weeks. Usually we averaged every couple of days. However, when something came up and Logan had to seriously take off for one dire situation or another, I must say that his homecoming almost made up for his absence. Not every college girl has their boyfriend wake them up in the dead hours of the night, still decked out in his imposing superhero gear, eager and ready to show her just how much she was missed.

I'm suddenly eager for the dessert course to come and go so that we can finish our evening in a less public venue. I drop a suggestive hand down along Logan's thigh, enjoying watching his expression change from one of relaxed arrogance to tense with shadow of need.

"So...dinner was so nice, I might just let you take me home tonight." I breathe into his ear while my hand continues along it's path and Logan licks his lips.

"Hang on...there was a point to this dinner, Jubilation."

I frown in puzzlement. "Yeah. Another year of college down, coming home for the summer, actually getting to **stay** home for the summer with my internship, and **nothing **says welcome home like you do when we're **alone--**" I stop quite abruptly as Logan had just placed a tiny, velvet box on the white linen of the dining table.

I think my stomach just plummeted through the floor and into the bowels of hell. Literally, I think I've entered hell.

Now, let me be clear through my freak out. Let me be freaking transparent. I love Logan, I do, every day ends and begins with him either literally or in my thoughts. He is my best friend, my teammate, my partner, my lover, the man I'm in love with--and the kind of love that lights up my life like my powers light up the dark. When I look into the future five years, ten years and more I see myself with Logan and no other.

However, there is a goddamned **timeline** to this! A necessary, natural unfolding of events, that ensures sense and reason to the how and why, that means our bond of both love and friendship will last because we did things right and sane and rational and goddammit all to hell because now I'm desperately babbling silently to myself in my **own** **brain**.

Brief glimmers of excuses about finishing college flit through my brain as my voice goes the route of my stomach--disappearing down into the depths of an alternate dimension where I can't even manage to access it. My silence stretches out into what is quickly becoming infinity and a despair is quickly rising within me.

There is no easy response to this--there is nothing I can say that will make this magically go away or make this suddenly better and **yes** is certainly not the way to go.

It takes me a second through my panicked reverie to realize the Logan is laughing--a full on belly laugh, except that description never quite works for him. More like a full on laugh that reaches deep down and resonates in his adamatium bones.

With a quick, decisive movement he reaches over to the velvet box and pops the lid open to reveal a plain, bronze key like the kind that go to house doors.

I snap back into myself with relief. And look to Logan, grasping for an explanation.

His grin is easy and sincere and his eyes are full of humor.

"I got an apartment in the city. Couple of weeks ago. Wanted to surprise ya. I thought...that you could live there when schools starts up again next fall. With me," he clarifies.

"So...you...you're asking me to move in with you?" My mind reels, desperately trying to grasp this new concept so far from the dreaded one that the small velvety box usually stands for.

"Yes. A place for us away from the mansion, close to your school, where Lex doesn't have to trip over us. You and me, kid."

Suddenly my emotions are a tumult.

"What about the mansion?"

"We'll be in and outta there all the time regardless, darlin'. This'll be for just us."

"When will it be ready?"

His eyes are deep and penetrating. "Got the key right there. Already had some furniture moved in. Your basic stuff, nothing special. Feel free to add in whatever you want."

"So...we could spend some time there this summer?" Very slowly this abstraction of an apartment for Wolverine and I dawns into a realization and this absurd picture of domestic bliss invades my brain with the two of us snuggled up in a comfy, big bed in a room surrounded by Asian decor complete with katanas and a closet full of my favorite labels.

"Darlin,' we could go there **tonight**--it's barely fifteen minutes away."

"Logan...it's perfect. It's unbelievable. It's the best thing you could have done for me--I don't quite know what to say." Especially since scant seconds ago I was frozen in a freak out of colossal proportions quailing from the fear that the tiny foreboding box held a much bigger statement than a simple key. Guilt eats at the edges of my elation as I dwell on the fact that as much as I loved this man and am eager to move into a space meant specially for the two of us, a bigger commitment was beyond me at the moment.

He had laughed, but I wondered just how well he had read my previous expression and just exactly how he would react to me despairing at the thought of marrying him. Which made me think if marriage ever even entered his brain. His marital history was enough to scare any person away from the institution for an eternity.

"Christ, darlin, you shoulda seen the look on your face. I thought you were scared shitless going up against Doc Doom two months ago til I saw your face just now." He still looks extremely amused.

I have the grace to look chagrined.

"Well--y'know, Wolvie, I just thought it was, I mean, I just assumed, and it's not that I don't **want** to--**eventually** I mean, I just don't think I'm **ready**, and you **know** I love you, I just--" Logan takes pity on me and saves me with a kiss. Grateful, I let him, opting for expressing myself with my physical ardor rather than failing spectacularly at verbal explanation of all my complicated feelings tied in with all my future expectations. Thank God, Logan could be so straightforward and to the point at certain times.

"I think we can put a pin in that velvet box for a few years while you get through school and figure out what you want after that." There's a gruffness and strange sort of longing in his voice that puts a weakness in my knees.

"How did you turn into the perfect man?" I really, truly want to know because I think I'm the only woman in the galaxy who could claim the feral Wolverine as perfect.

He lets out another raucous laugh at this.

"Perfect, Jubes? This from the girl who just two week ago, screamed like Banshee at me for jumping outta the Blackbird so's not to leave the party behind?"

I immediately glare at my "perfect" boyfriend for mentioning this particular act of what I call **blatant** stupidity. This so-called 'party' he refers to is one of the more calamitous and desperate missions the X-men had found themselves in in a long time. He did his damnedest to ensure that I was safe and secure aboard the X-jet, before--and** expressly without telling me**--veering right back around to jump out the still open door of the jet as we blasted away. I watched Logan, **still** not fully healed from injuries already sustained, jump into nothing but air in an effort to go back for heroes left behind. He was off the grid for the next **two days** and I was sick with worry, after all, I was one of the few people in the world who had actually seen Wolverine brought close to the brink of death despite his mutant capabilities. When Logan finally resurfaced with X-men and Avengers alike, and in one piece, I may or may not have been so incensed that I blasted him into a wall with my pyrotechnics when he finally decided to show his dumb mug.

"Too soon, darlin?"

"I hate you and your stupid, over the top, idiotic, ridiculous, insane, heart-stopping, moronic, dumb-assed stunts!" Even I'm surprised by the venom in my voice. Apparently, it **was** too soon.

Logan, long immune to my anger born of fear for him, smiled at me. "Yeah, sweetheart, I really love you too." His voice was devoid of all sarcasm and unbidden tears prick my eyes.

My anger is unabated--mostly because I know that this would hardly be the last time Wolverine pulled something like this, and would not be the last time I would be terrified that my supposedly invulnerable boyfriend would find a way to die. However, my anger is not alone, it is annoyingly keeping company with all those sultry, naughty desperate needs to feel Logan's powerful, lively, muscles against me in a way that proved that he could never, ever die on me because he was too vital, too intense, too **alive**.

After a year, Logan immediately recognizes this certain expression on my face.

In short order, we had the bill payed, left a generous tip, and Logan was running his warm, calloused hands along my back and arms in an effort to help me put my wrap in place in a way that was slowly, but surely driving my delightfully crazy. Any vexation I was still harboring was quickly evaporating into something else entirely.

Getting a cab proved more difficult than usual, so we took off walking towards--and I grin ecstatically at thinking this--**our apartment.** His hand grips mine tightly and I snake my other arm around his hand-holding one and nuzzle his ear. The cool night air was refreshing and helped my brain process. Suddenly, I was vibrant with questions.

"So...when's the last time you lived with a woman, Logan?"

"Uh...that would be Mariko. Took a break from the X-men fer a while. Lived with her in Japan."

"How was that?"

"It was...perfect." A distant pain is evident on his features, one that will never quite leave him. Sometimes I feel like there are a thousand pains that will never leave him; sometimes just a certain few. She is one of those few.

My voice is soft and hesitant. "Perfect is quite the standard to live up to."

"Not that kind of perfect, Jubes. She was the woman I loved, not a roommate."

Like I said, that was quite the standard to live up to.

"When did you first think of doing this for us?"

His grin eats away at his pain. I used to think it was just me, but then Gambit mentioned to me that Wolverine smiled more easily these days.

He's chewing at his lip like he was attempting to keep his now numerous smiles in check.

"Started thinkin' about it after Canada."

I grin delightedly. "One getaway with me and you automatically think about living with me?"

"It's relaxing having your scent around. And yeah. One getaway, darlin. What can I say?"

"Y'know, Wolvie, I think you're the only person ever to say having **me **around is relaxing."

"I said havin' your scent around, darlin'. Havin' **you** around is a whole other experience."

"I should freakin' hope so." I chose to accept this is as a compliment instead of a jab. I'm just that kind of optimistic person.

Shortly after that, we arrived at the steps of a classic brownstone. Logan tugs my hand to halt my progress.

"Well, sweetheart, here we are."

The building itself is gorgeous, classic New York. A small, darker voice within me wonders how many times this building has had to be redone due to superhero-level disasters. I can already tell that it's everything I could want.

We stand together on the sidewalk, staring up at the building, holding hands.

"Wow...this is...this is more than I ever thought I could have, Logan."

"An apartment in New York and a boyfriend to live with?" His question is joking, but his tone is soft. He knows what I'm really implying because he knows me.

"I don't know what to say." Again.

"Well, darlin', I'm a simple man. You don't have to **say **anything." He raises his eyebrows at me suggestively and I giggle. He effectively silences me with a passionate, wild kiss coupled with a powerful embrace.

"Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" I ask.

"Probably about as much as I love you," he growls into my neck and I feel the vibrations of his body deep in my core. This was the perfect moment, the perfect, evening, the most perfect my life has ever, ever been. Small, colorful sparks float up from my hands as they clutch at Logan and pop and fizzle. I'm so happy I can't quite control it. He continues the kiss and I dimly realize that he's walked me up the stairs and pressed my body against the door of the building.

It'll be a miracle if we make it all the way up to our actual apartment.

**BOOM!**

We break away with a start, realizing our building just shuddered behind me.

"Well, there goes the neighborhood," Wolverine grounds out.

"Think we could maybe just ignore it?" I **really** want to go see the inside.

Distantly, we hear the sirens start.

Wolverine starts to growl.

I groan.

"Alright, alright, let's go freaking save New York."

Wolverine's smile is darkly delighted. "Aw, c'mon, Jubilee, it'll be fun."

I can't help but grin in response. "Lead the way, Wolvie."

**FIN**


End file.
